


They Follow Swans

by BMWM



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adoption, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brotherly Love, Cancer, Change in Ages, Character Death, Childhood, Dating, Drama, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, Growing Old Together, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Themes, Life Drama, Lost Love, Love, M/M, Marriage, Mistakes, Multi, Past Romance, Pining, Romance, Slice of Life, Social theory, Suicide, Teen Pregnancy, The One Who Got Away, Unconditional Love, Unrequited Love, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10296530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BMWM/pseuds/BMWM
Summary: When Itachi forces Sasuke to attend his 'Soc-Club' Party instead of studying for the LSAT, Sasuke is not impressed. When a passionate young blonde gives an impromptu speech on gay rights, however, everything changes. Their friend groups will never be the same. Somehow, that's not a bad thing.A series of interconnected one-shots. An out of order retelling. A family drama. Very slice of life. AU.An edited repost of a previous series, now with added stories.





	1. The Charismatic Man

**Author's Note:**

> Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto
> 
> Character interactions are based on social theories with an overarching plot based on William Swann's Self-Verification Theory, hence the title.
> 
> There may be a handful of spelling errors, I have read through these pieces so many times I miss all of them. I apologize in advance. If you see one, please don't hesitate to let me know so I can fix it!
> 
> Within this work, there may be some slight OOC behaviors. I apologize in advance. In order for this story to have the ups and downs it does, it was sometimes necessary to change customary reactions to create drama.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the party of the year, and all the Sociology Seniors are in Itachi's living room, much to Sasuke's chagrin. Little did Sasuke know these are no ordinary Seniors and they've got a secret they don't want their professor to know. Enter Naruto Uzumaki charismatic leader and...genius?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: It's unlikely that your college professors would have awesome social theory parties at their home, but this is fiction so it can happen here without any repercussions.

For reasons Sasuke couldn’t understand, he had agreed to attend Itachi’s ‘Soc–Club’ party. It was bad enough that Itachi kept coming home, ranting and raving about how smart his students were, or that the piles of essays that still needed to be graded kept increasing, but to add insult to injury, Itachi had invited his graduating Theory seniors to their home, insisting that it was the only location they could possibly have a party.

Itachi was an asshole, Sasuke decided, because he knew that Fridays were the days that Sasuke studied for the LSAT and that he had a finite number of days to study every page in his preparation guide, and commit it to memory—especially if he wanted to get into a decent school. But Itachi always had his head in the clouds, musing about liberties and social injustices as if he were talking about the weather. Sasuke didn’t want to think about abortion rights when he was grilling steaks, he didn’t want to know about race issues while watching TV, and he most certainly didn’t want to know about income disparity while celebrating the holidays. All Sasuke wanted was to study in peace, to move away from Itachi and his infernal yammering, and to become a business litigation lawyer as soon as possible.

But, for some infernal reason, he had decided not to spend the night at the library with his notecards and notebooks, and internet printouts, and textbooks. Instead, he had agreed to stay at the house and actually sit with Itachi and his students. So far, the conversation had remained steadfastly on the morbid subject of suicide, with absolutely no one speaking up on behalf of how awful this was for a party theme.

“Honestly, it’s due to anomie. I can’t see how that many people could jump off a building in such a short period of time and have it not be due to attachment,” Ino, a heavily made–up woman with her long blond hair in a high ponytail, proclaimed, swirling her Merlot in her red cup.

One of the students, Kiba, had bounded in with several bottles of wine grasped tightly in his thick fingers, grinning stupidly, and pretending that Itachi couldn’t see him. Within moments, Itachi’s students had encircled him and had each come back with a full cup. The worst part was that they were all sipping the wine responsibly, letting the alcohol relax them into the conversation rather than energize them out of it.

“Don’t you mean altruism? Anomie is a lack of regulations and they had plenty of those,” Neji, a stoic man with long dark hair and a faraway look in his pale eyes, spoke, his voice deep and soothing.

“But the culture—” began Kiba. Sasuke inwardly groaned. This had been a recurring subject—culture this and culture that—that seemed to apply to everything regardless of what they were talking about. If culture amounted to so much, Sasuke mused, gulping his wine thirstily, then why hadn’t anyone come up with a functional solution to the problem by now? This, he thought, licking his lips, was the difference between businessmen and social scientists: business majors did, sociology majors thought.

“I wish I could marry Durkheim!” Naruto loudly announced. Naruto had been bounding in and out of the conversation throughout the night, randomly inserting information almost as if he hadn’t been listening to anything anyone had said.

“He’s dead,” Sakura chided Naruto, but a playful smile tugged at her lips.

“Well, yeah, but I mean, he’s so amazing. He’s like—he’s like the Godfather of Sociology. He totally reformed the entire system,” Naruto mimed taking a tommy–gun out of a violin case and blasting imaginary systems.

“What about Weber—or Marx?” Itachi asked, smiling softly at Naruto as if Naruto had just been proclaimed smartest man in the universe.

“Ooh, Marx!” Ino said gleefully, before starting a conversation on communism.

Sasuke sighed. At least they were off the subject of suicide. Not that a heated discussion on income systems was much better, but Sasuke wasn’t going to complain about a conversation that he knew most of the vocabulary. 

“Marx had the right idea, he just went about it in the wrong way,” Kiba said in a serious tone.

Itachi perked up. “Really, you think so?”

Kiba nodded, eyes darting around the circle as everyone stared intently at him. “Yeah,” he said lamely and then went into an elaborate explanation of the effects of capitalism, and how Marxist ideology sought to correct them, finalizing with a dramatic intake of breath before, “Which is why capitalism is currently the best solution society has in managing currency.” 

The noise in the living room was ear–shattering, Sasuke decided, as each of Itachi’s students began shouting over the other in an attempt to debate the functionality of the capitalistic system. Itachi hadn’t seemed to notice the noise level, dark eyes glistening with elation as he, too, joined in the commotion. Sasuke rolled his eyes, glaring deeply at Itachi for not controlling his students, wishing fervently that he had gone to the library.

The night was wasted as far as Sasuke could tell. He had been promised an exciting party, and whatever event was taking place in his living room was the exact opposite of that. Pandemonium would be more entertaining than the scene unfolding before Sasuke’s eyes. These were people his age, who willingly went to a party to discuss classwork. Sasuke often thought of himself as a model student, but even that would be considered lame. Itachi’s students appeared nonplussed at how boring the night had become, and actively contributed to the monotony.

As if the group sitting on Sasuke’s living room floor had synchronized the effect, each one at nearly the same exact time thrust his or her arm into the air and shouted “The proletariat!” effectively ending the debate.

Itachi was smiling so widely that Sasuke thought his head might split in two. Around the circle, everyone had a contented look on their face, acting as if they hadn’t just been screaming at each other. Sasuke rolled his eyes and drained what was left of his wine. If anything, Sasuke had come up with a new drinking game.

“When will you grade our Bourdieu essay?” Sakura asked.

Itachi groaned. “I told you. It takes me several weeks to grade them.”

“I know, but, I keep thinking that I might have misunderstood his theology on social positioning,” Sakura whined, gaining a murmur of consent among the other students.

Itachi laughed. “I couldn’t give them to you now anyway.”

Registering defeat, Sakura and the rest of the students slumped where they sat, fiddling with the plush carpet. Itachi excused himself for the bathroom, slinking out of the living room and down the hall quietly. As soon as the bathroom door thudded shut, Sasuke noted that there was a ripple in the circle as each student checked to be sure that Itachi was really out of the room. Sasuke felt several eyes bore into him, but it soon became apparent that no one saw him as a threat.

“Okay, Naruto, we just talked for three hours on the only subjects we know. Itachi is going to figure it out,” Ino said, scooting closer to the other blond.

“Well, yeah, you talked for two hours on suicide, at a party he invited us to. Of course he’s suspicious. You should have dropped it after thirty minutes,” Naruto said, flicking Ino’s ponytail playfully.

Sakura groaned and flung her hands to her face, rubbing vigorously. “We don’t know what else to talk about! We don’t know this stuff like you do.”

“Yeah, man, help us out. I’m this close to graduating college, for a degree that’s not veterinary science! I can’t let anyone know I don’t know what I’m talking about. My mom would freak,” Kiba hissed, keeping a sharp eye out for Itachi reentering the room.

Neji’s stoic mask crumbled, his eyes turning somber. “I can’t fail my final semester, I don’t have any loans left. They’re booting me from financial aid after this.”

Naruto glanced coyly around the room, assessing each of his peers. “Alright,” he began, grinning ferally, “Kiba,” at his name, Kiba perked up, “You need to start us off with a healthy discussion of the death penalty. You’re good at playing devil’s advocate, so channel that energy. Be sure to mention the failure rate in regards to deterrence as it’s integral to the argument. And, don’t forget to name–drop Marx again, he was a leading theorist against capital punishment. Understood?” Kiba nodded vigorously, eyes turned wide in concentration.

Naruto turned his attention to Sakura. “Sakura,” She sat up straighter, face drawn, “I need you to talk about social ecology and how it pertains to crime rates. Get sympathetic—how have institutions failed society to enable criminal behavior? Name–drop the Chicago School and start us talking about Spencer and his ideology on how advantageous living together is, hence why we moved into cities. Got that?” Sakura nodded firmly once, pounding the bottom of her fist harshly into her other palm.

“Neji,” Naruto said, forcing Neji to meet his eyes, “You’ll talk about family values. Get really heated about single parent households. Are they positive, are they negative? You tell me. Either way, family is changing, has been for the entirety of the institution. Bring in Martineau and her views of women’s roles, stating a lot about the education of women—she really pushed that. Bring up how she never married and how she found success in a man’s world, Itachi spent an entire lecture fangirling over that fact. Is that clear?” Neji grunted his reply, eyes back to that hazy stare.

“Don’t give me that look, Ino, I saved the best for last,” Naruto said, turning to the girl next to him. At his words, Ino blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. Naruto continued, “Remember that cartoon that Konan showed us in Women’s Studies? The one with the two women, one in skimpy clothing and the other in a burka?” Ino nodded tentatively, “Okay, do you remember how they both looked at each other and felt the other was being oppressed?” Ino’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape, “You’re going to discuss that concept as objectively as possible. Speak about the harassment you’ve gotten from men and what the benefits of a system where your body isn’t visible at all might be. Think patriarchy, and be sure to mention Addams and how her successes were often undermined by male sociologists who saw her as an intellectual threat.” 

Ino smiled sweetly and pecked Naruto on the cheek. “Got it, bitch.” 

Naruto rolled his eyes. “And then I’ll finish us off with a rendition of L–G–B–T–Q–Q–I–P–Two–S–A–A rights so powerful and moving Itachi will have to sleep with the light on.”

“You guys are crazy,” Sasuke said in wonder. Itachi would be devastated if he found out that only one of his students was smart enough to carry on an intellectual conversation on the subject matter. 

Naruto turned his toothy grin on him and Sasuke saw, for the first time why the other students had chosen him as their leader. Naruto was strong, determined and never seemed to tire of smiling. The stare that he was giving Sasuke sent shivers up Sasuke’s spine and Sasuke felt both a need to shy away and move toward the blond man in front of him.

“You have a problem?” Naruto asked.

Nearly breathless, Sasuke barely managed to keep his head. Shrugging, he said: “I hate the guy so more power to you if you can pull it off.” 

Naruto shrugged his shoulders and laid back on the carpet. “Then it’s settled.”

No sooner had the declaration burst from Naruto’s lips, but the bathroom door split open and Itachi meandered back into the living room. Itachi smiled brightly around at his students, beaming at each of them in turn.

“This is really amazing. Having all of you here, for one last hoorah before you go off into the world. I am just so pleased to have such smart, wonderful, amazing people for students. You guys give me so much hope for the future of this country—and for the world!” Itachi said as he sat back down in the circle.

“It’s only because you’re such a good professor,” Sakura said, a blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah, man, without you I would never have even heard of Weber!” Kiba nearly shouted.

There was a murmur of agreement in the circle and Itachi looked positively delighted. Sasuke could see the faint blush crawling up his neck and smirked knowingly. If the previous conversation was anything to go by, Itachi’s students were learning more from Naruto than they were from Itachi.

Sasuke wasn’t sure what to expect when the conversation started. He was hoping for something a little more overt, to add more drama to the party, but it soon became apparent that Itachi’s students were really good actors and actresses. The way they talked it would seem like they were all geniuses in the field of sociology. One factoid after another, opinions and the occasional statistic, and Sasuke couldn’t tell what was true and how much they had made up on the spot.

Kiba had proclaimed loudly, as if trying to get people to listen to him, “If we sentence a murderer to death, do we then become murderers ourselves?” and the group had rallied to the cause, each picking a side to debate from and discussing, in all earnestness, what the negative impacts of capital punishment were and what the benefits could be.

For the first time in his life, Sasuke found himself drawn to sociology. Itachi had made sociology seem so boring, wishing for change but never acting on it. But in listening to a group of people debate heavily on the glass elevator effect, Sasuke found that he was actually enjoying the concepts. This wasn’t Itachi speaking to him as an older brother, this was a group of peers actively showing an interest in social change, and explaining, rather loudly, what had changed in the course of history.

It was also true that Sasuke began noticing that Naruto’s outbursts were less derailing the conversation, but keeping the conversation going in the direction it needed to go. Naruto was so adept at knowing the personalities of those he was interacting with that with small pushes he could steer that person’s thought process to a more logical train of thought. Sasuke felt a need to know more about Naruto, wishing fervently for an excuse to say something to him, to converse with him, and to spend time with him.

“….so if diversity in the workforce can improve productivity, I propose that a diverse country, with acceptance of all people regardless of race, gender, sexuality, age, religion, socioeconomic status or ethnicity would also be incredibly productive. This would follow the American Creed—following capitalistic values—but would enable more people to succeed and would allow our country to be seen better internationally,” Naruto proclaimed, his lengthy speech had been filled with so much passion and energy that Sasuke had leaned forward in his chair.

“God, I could kiss you.”

The words had whispered out of his mouth before Sasuke had even recognized he had thought them. Under the normal din in the living room, where Itachi and his students were debating fiercely, Sasuke’s voice would not have been heard. But he had been unfortunate enough to speak just as Naruto had finished and after Naruto had pounded his fist into the floor. No one else had had time to recover their emotions from the lengthy dialog and had been staring intensely at Naruto as if he had spoken Holy words. 

Naruto had turned his head slightly so his blue eyes stared confidently into Sasuke’s black ones, his face still in a cheeky grin, showing large canines. At that moment, Sasuke wanted to melt into the carpet. He felt the blush rush to his cheeks, felt his face heat up as if he had a high fever, and, yet, he couldn’t look away. There was a stubborn part of him that felt that since he had come this far, he might as well stick with it.

However, Naruto, who had been incredibly boisterous the entire night, and who had been incredibly touchy–feely with all of his friends, and whom Sasuke was sure would be equally obnoxious in a situation like this, merely shrugged his shoulders and looked away.

“That was really incredible, Naruto,” Itachi said, finally. If Sasuke didn’t know better, Itachi was crying.

The rest of the students were milling around lazily, the wine finally finished off and circulating through their systems. It had appeared that Naruto’s speech was what broke the spell, the energetic high they had been on finally crashing down around them. Kiba groaned into the carpet, kicking out his legs to get comfortable. Sakura was playing with Ino’s hair while Ino texted. Neji leaned back against the couch, fingering his puka shell necklace. Naruto shrugged and stretched his arms.

“Thanks, Professor.”

Itachi must have realized that his students were fading fast because he checked his phone, letting out a strangled noise. “Guys, it's midnight!”

With a cacophony of groans and moans, Itachi’s students began to stand and collect their things, moving slowly in their tiredness and the effects of the wine. Sasuke, too, stood, hell bent on extracting himself from the situation.

It had been an interesting night, Sasuke mused, dropping his red cup in the trash in the kitchen. He had found a new interest, and, surprisingly, it was one he shared with Itachi. He had enjoyed himself slightly more than he had expected though now he was horrifically behind in studying for the LSAT. He would probably need to hire a tutor just to be safe. 

Sighing, he leaned against the refrigerator door, waiting patiently for the last of Itachi’s students to leave. He was never going to speak about Naruto again. Even if no one else minded that Sasuke had been so careless, it bothered Sasuke that he could say something like that without meaning to. He ran a slender hand through his hair in frustration. It must have been the wine. He had had more than the others, so it was only natural he was a bit more out of it than they were.

“Hey, your brother said you were in here.”

Sasuke snapped his head over to look at the kitchen door. There, in all his glory was Naruto. Scraggily blond hair framing his face and glowing ethereally in the bright light of the kitchen. He walked in casually, shuffling his feet as we went. Sasuke stared at him, guarded, waiting for the other to say the reason as to why he was there.

“I’m Naruto,” the blond said as he stopped a reasonable distance from Sasuke. He was holding out his hand.

Sasuke grasped and shook Naruto’s hand. “Sasuke.”

“Good to meet you. You go to K–L–V–U, right? I think I’ve seen you around.” Naruto said as he dripped his hand.

Sasuke nodded. “Yeah, I go to Konoha. I’m graduating next semester with a management degree.”

Naruto smiled. “My minor is in Art Promotion so I’ve taken a lot of business courses.”

“You can get a degree in Art Promotion?”

Naruto laughed. “It’s an individualized program. My dad was a pretty well–known sculpture artist and my mom is a life coach. It just seemed like it was in my blood, you know?”

Sasuke nodded again. He seemed to be doing that a lot. “I’m hoping to go to law school.”

Sasuke watched as Naruto beamed. “Awesome! I just got accepted to Suna Tech for a Ph.D. program in Social Work specializing in Case Management.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Sasuke said, feeling the familiar feeling of jealousy creep up on him.

“Itachi always speaks really highly of you in class. He told everyone your G–P–A one day and we were all incredibly impressed. I don’t think you have to worry so much about passing the LSAT.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll kill him.”

Naruto’s chuckle was bright as his face contorting into a look of serene glee. “Not until after finals. If I work this right, everyone in Theory will pass.”

Sasuke relaxed and nodded his consent. “Hn.”

“I’ve meant to ask, do you work at Orochimaru’s Bar and Grill? I thought I saw someone there that looked like you.”

“Yeah, I’m a server there.”

“Does the snake meat actually taste like chicken? Everyone says it does, but I don’t want to try it to find out.”

“I think it’s more fish–like.”

“That would make sense,” Naruto’s expression was both excited and contemplative.

“Where do you work?” Sasuke asked, feeling pressure to continue the conversation.

“My godfather, Jiraiya, owns a publishing house and he hired me on as a receptionist.”

“Oh, here you are, Naruto,” Itachi said shuffling into the kitchen, a large textbook in his hands. Naruto turned around quickly to face him. Itachi continued, “This should help you with your final paper. I think the section on Comte and his Normative Doctrine are most influential.”

“Thanks, professor,” Naruto said, “I guess I’ll head out now. My mom keeps texting me asking if I’ve died.”

Itachi laughed. “Tell Kushina she is welcome at my office anytime. There’s something about that woman that makes me want to reinvent myself.”

“Will do,” Naruto said as he started back towards the living room. 

It didn’t take long for Sasuke to realize that he didn’t want Naruto to leave. Despite the fact they had mostly been discussing small–talk, he was starting to warm to the other man. Watching Naruto’s back as it slipped towards the kitchen door, Sasuke felt a sadness overtake him that he had not experienced before. With a resigned sigh, Sasuke trailed after Naruto with the pretenses of showing him the door.

“….so you need to start now on the essay if you want to write a really good one. I think this will be your best essay yet. I love what you’re planning on setting up with positivism and I think it fits your background really well. And, don’t forget….” Itachi was saying to Naruto in an almost secretive tone. Naruto was listening intently, stopping only when he reached the foyer, one hand on the door knob.

Sasuke stopped as well, standing a little in front of Itachi, but to the side. Sasuke wasn’t sure what he was doing there. Neither Naruto, not Itachi seemed to need him there. But his stubbornness was acting up again, and he couldn’t bring himself to back down. Not when he had come this far. Naruto kept glancing over at him from the corner of his eye, still nodding at the battery of information Itachi was throwing on him. Finally, Itachi had exhausted himself, and Sasuke’s feet had only just started to go numb.

“Thanks for tonight, Professor. It was really great,” Naruto was saying, reaching his hand into his pocket.

“Wish we could do another one!” Itachi agreed heartily, “Bye, Naruto.”

“Bye, Professor,” said Naruto, waving a little with the hand that had been in his pocket. In his hand was a small slip of heavy paper Sasuke recognized as a business card.

With Itachi’s back turned, Naruto handed the card to Sasuke, a gleam in his eyes. “Call me,” he whispered before opening the door and slinking out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	2. The Women in Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a shame that all of Naruto's friends are settling down and having babies. On a trip to Kaze to see Sakura and Karin, Gaara finds himself standing on a balcony contemplating his life. When Sakura catches him, he finds that maybe Naruto's friends aren't so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Character Death, Mild Child Abuse

According to the clock on the wall, Gaara had been pushing food around his plate for an hour. Naruto had told him that this party was the perfect opportunity to meet some of his friends from college. Gaara hadn’t seen the need to—college had been so many years ago that even Gaara wasn’t sure exactly what he had studied. Gaara was choosing to ignore the fact that art school had been filled with so many mind–altering experiences that he hadn’t been sure which courses he had been studying even while he was partaking in them. This was not what he objecting to, anyway. It was the principle of being confined in a strange town, with strange people whom he only knew two of. Gaara could feel the hives growing on his shoulders as he thought about it.

He slid his broccoli through the marinara sauce just as the group sitting at the table started raucously laughing. Sasuke thumping the table in his exuberance, that Suigetsu guy rocking back and forth in his chair in mirth, one of the hostesses, Karin, was biting her lip in her attempt not to wake her son, Jiro, and her wife Sakura’s blue hair was flying as she shook her head in disbelief. Gaara felt his stomach churn at how raucous the table had become—and even more uncomfortable at the thought that he was the only person at the table who had no idea what was so funny.

“But that wasn’t even the best part—remember? Remember he—he had the eraser in his hand and was rubbing it against the table—remember?” Naruto was miming some poor man’s action as if it were the literal most hilarious thing on the planet. Sasuke had given up on the table and was slapping Suigetsu on the back with mirth. Karin had lost her composure and was now laughing hysterically. Sakura was laughing so hard tears were pouring down her face. And Gaara was still unsure how that particular bit of information was so amusing. 

Realizing that he was never going to understand the conversations they were having and that if he mushed his broccoli any more than he already had he would be having soup, Gaara quietly excused himself from the table under the pretenses that he needed to find the restroom. It was telling, he thought, that no one noticed that he had left. It was like he had been invisible the entire evening.

Naruto knew that Gaara didn’t like crowds. Or new people. Or places that he’d never been. Naruto had known him for his entire life, could more than likely remember the times that Gaara had gotten out of giving presentations or had refused to talk to people after school simply because he had no connection to them. Gaara was sure that if Naruto could just remember his childhood that he would realize that Gaara was simply an anti–social person who would never be able to blend into a group he had never met before.

But this was Naruto. Naruto always saw the best in people and refused to believe that others couldn’t stand basic pleasantries and didn’t need seventy–billion conversations a day to be happy. Gaara was perfectly fine never meeting another new soul if it meant that he could stop itching.

Gaara’s feet touched the carpeted floors of the second floor landing and realized that in his haste to extract himself from the situation he had found himself on the opposite end of the home from where he had been shown the bathroom was. Deciding that he didn’t really want to traipse all the way back down and through the dining room again just to spend his time on the toilet playing that new bubble game on his phone, Gaara started peeking quietly into each room as he went. If there was a master bedroom, he might be able to say he got lost and decided to use that toilet instead.

Stopping himself just in time from opening a door which was obviously the nursery (a little teddy bear knocker was in the center of the door), Gaara cursed the fact that all of Naruto’s friends were settled down and deciding to have little, grimy, smelly balls of goop of their own. Soon enough Naruto would want to do that, and then what would Gaara do? It was despicable that people in the world even had to deal with the ooey–gooey balls of flesh before they became much more rational people with actual opinions and that didn’t scream when told not to play with electrical wires. Gaara couldn’t understand the appeal, and he never wanted to, either.

Slipping away from the nursery undetected, Gaara stalked down the hall to the last door and, realizing that this had to be the master bedroom, slipped inside quietly. The bedroom was large and furnished with a five–poster bed with rose sheets. Shoes littered the floor leading to the closet and piles of clothes dotted the room. Without even looking for the master bath, Gaara stepped over various piles of cloth and leather in a straight beeline for the balcony. It would stand to reason that a little bit of fresh air would help refresh his body and rid him of the awful stomach ache he was feeling.

The view from the balcony was beautiful. Gaara was already coming up with designs for his glassware staring out at the blinking lights of the city. The tallest buildings all twinkled in the night like ships on the water. The cars glowed on the hill below as the passengers travelled to various nighttime locations. The lighthouse directing the seaward traffic in the distance blinked into view occasionally before flashing out to sea. The salty tang to the ocean air energized Gaara and already he felt better with the wind sweeping his long hair. 

There had always been something comforting about the night. It was like the world came alive when the sun went down and held a new life of its own. Gaara stared longingly at the moon, wishing that he could stay there instead of interacting with all of Earth’s inhabitants. Ever since he was little the moon had been like another family member. Insomnia did that to a person.

It had been under the moon that his most inspiring thoughts had come to him, and also where his deepest insecurities manifested themselves. It was always under the moonlight that Gaara found himself contemplating the fact that, had Gaara had more foresight all those years ago when he had met Sasuke the first time, he might have realized that helping Sasuke succeed would also mean ripping a gaping hole in Gaara’s chest where his heart was.

Naruto, Gaara had come to realize, was his soulmate and probably always had been. The fact that Sasuke was so much better than Gaara burned Gaara’s heart in such a way that he was sure he would never recover from the wound. Sasuke had it all—the high–paying job, the sexy good looks, and, of course, the most incredible person on the planet, Naruto. It hadn’t seemed fair to Gaara that Naruto would have chosen such a stickler to be the one who lasted forever. Gaara had always thought that Naruto would settle down with an average guy, someone a little less meticulous and a little more rebellious. Someone whom Gaara would be akin to. That would at least match the teen Naruto that Gaara parted with so many years ago.

Gaara knew, deep down, that what he was wishing for was unfair to all parties involved. But, there had been a part of himself nine years ago when he had met Sasuke that had secretly wished that Sasuke would disappear forever and never come back. And yet, Gaara knew he had done everything in his power to keep Sasuke around. Maybe it was the fact that Naruto had been so upset at the thought of losing Sasuke, and Gaara had begun to realize he couldn’t stand to see Naruto hurt. Or, maybe it was the fact that, had Sasuke left, Naruto would have never spoken to him again— the part that was so unbearable was that Naruto would have chosen someone else over Gaara.

Leaning on the railing, Gaara watched as cars sped by in such a hurry to continue on with their lives. He had never wanted to come and meet Naruto’s college friends. Even now, as removed from the situation as he could get under the circumstances, he had no desire to go back down and try to connect with any of the people there.

Suigetsu was a snob. A man that had gotten rich too quickly and then decided that nothing was worth spending on except booze and women. Every time he opened his mouth, Gaara knew that he would be lamenting the fact that there were no sexier women than what he had already gotten. He was a schmoozer, a womanizer and a fraud. Gaara hoped that Suigetsu met his match one day. Maybe in some sort of venereal disease form.

Karin hadn’t stopped talking about placenta since Gaara had arrived. It was like the woman thought about nothing except childbearing. Were they eating spaghetti? Better compare the look of the noodles to after birth. Gaara prided himself on a strong constitution, but at dinner that night even he had to admit he had his limits. Just because she was an obstetrician didn’t necessarily mean that everyone else had to be interested in her line of work as well. Gaara wanted to call her conceited, but it was more like she was inconsiderate.

And Sakura—Sakura was standing on the balcony with him.

Sakura stared in shock at Gaara. Gaara stared back, unsure what to say. He hadn’t planned on getting caught. In fact, this was the absolute worst person to catch him there. He had tramped though her personal bedroom to get to the balcony, after all. 

“What are you doing here?” Sakura blurted, still staring with wide eyes at Gaara.

Gaara shrugged, trying play it cool. “I needed some air.”

Sakura nodded absentmindedly. Her body relaxing, eyes softening. Gaara recognized it as a mother’s intuition situation where Sakura had already trained herself not to get worked up over the little details. “Yeah. Me too,” she said before leaning on the railing next to Gaara.

Gaara nodded and looked back up at the moon. If she was okay with him standing on the balcony with her, he wasn’t going to question her judgment.

“It’s just so unfair, isn’t it?” Sakura started suddenly. Gaara looked at her through the corner of her eyes. He had hoped this wouldn’t become a social experience, “I mean, life sucks,” she continued, obviously ignoring the fact that Gaara hadn’t acknowledged her, “You get told that so many amazing things are going to happen to you and then you find out one day that they’re all lies. How can you trust anyone?”

“Maybe they say those things to make you feel better?” Gaara said, resigning himself to a theological debate on the purpose of existence.

“Then they’re stupid. And horrible people. Who continuously lies to the people they love?”

“You do it all the time,” Gaara said, “You probably told Karin that you were checking on your son, and yet here you are standing on this balcony, talking to a complete stranger about how awful life is.”

Sakura twisted her body so that she was facing Gaara. “It’s still stupid,” she countered, but her voice was soft, the anger having dissipated almost as quickly as it had come. Gaara went back to staring at the moon.

After a few minutes, Sakura spoke again. This time her tone had changed and was almost so low that Gaara couldn’t hear what she said. “I have cancer.”

He blinked slowly. The conversation had taken an unusual turn. “My mom had cancer,” he blurted. Gaara didn’t know where that had come from. He had buried that hatchet years ago.

Sakura moved closer to Gaara, resting her hand delicately on his arm. “I’m so sorry,” then, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gaara stared at the hand on his arm. Had he known Sakura better he might have been mad at her for touching him without his permission. But, under the circumstances, Gaara was forcing himself to be okay with the unwanted physical contact.

“Not particularly.”

Sakura dropped her hand. Her face dropping. “I mean…what happened?” she said, not backing away from her too–close stance next to Gaara.

Gaara sighed. “She died.” Upon seeing the shock on Sakura’s face, Gaara realized he had made a mistake. “It was inevitable,” he continued, trying to salvage whatever bit of relationship they had left. It was only after he had said it that he realized that he had only made matters worse.

Sakura stared at him. Gaara started to get that sickening feeling in his stomach again and his hives were coming back. “What do you mean by that?” Sakura asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

Recognizing that it was only fair to give her the whole story, Gaara mussed his hair in preparation for the story ahead. “It was a long time ago, I was six. My mother was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Her only choice for treatment were a couple of rounds of chemotherapy and radiation.”

Sakura had inched even closer, a feat that Gaara hadn’t thought possible. He was starting to believe that anyone associated with Naruto had terrible personal boundaries.

“Why didn’t it work?”

It wasn’t that Gaara didn’t care about Sakura’s plight, it was that this story was coming from a place so deep down in his psyche that Gaara had been sure that he was never going to have to talk about it again. As it were, he hadn’t ever intended to have to relive the memories that he had hidden away.

Licking his lips, he started talking again. “My mother was given choices. My parents only had enough money for one procedure, the chemotherapy or the harvesting and storing of her embryonic cells. My mother chose faith.”

Gaara watched as Sakura’s brows furrowed and raised. “Faith? What do you mean by that?”

“My mother had faith that the cancer would go away on its own,” Gaara paused before saying, “Obviously, it didn’t,” in a matter of fact voice.

As if in her own little world, Sakura started speaking, “It was always in the plan for Karin and I to have more children. I was supposed to have the next baby.” Gaara didn’t know what to do with the blubbering mess in front of him. He had never been one for comfort. He had never known what to do. Sarcasm had been his only mode of communication, but there was a part of him that realized he couldn’t handle this situation in the same way.

“Sorry for rambling like this. My mother suffered from delusions. On her death bed she screamed that I was a demon sent from Satan to torture her. I may be a bit jaded.”

This was true. Gaara could remember the stark white hospital room, the smells of antiseptic and latex. He could remember knowing when he walked into that room that it was the last time he was going to see his mother. The once strong woman had been deflated. Incapable of sitting by herself she had been propped up with pillows and the bed had been adjusted into a more vertical angle. Even at six years of age, Gaara could recognize that she wasn’t going to make it. He had promised himself he wouldn’t cry, he had promised himself that if his mother was too weak to be as strong as she needed to be, then he would do it for her. And he could remember the nearly–electrical ripple that seemed to flash within his mother’s body when he had reached her bedside. 

Kankuro had held his hand, Temari had her hands firmly planted on his shoulders. They were both so much older, had probably been afraid that their baby–brother would bolt at the sight of their dying mother. And it was in that moment, the care and concern for the well–being of their already–fading mother, that she had lashed out at him, screeching about demons and devils, about how she wasn’t going to fire and brimstone and about how her youngest child was obviously a demon sent from Lucifer himself to tempt her to sin so she wouldn’t be saved.

Needless to say, Gaara had been whisked out of there quickly, with Temari trying to comfort him, trying to explain to a six–year–old child that his mother was simply too ill to know any better. But Gaara had known almost immediately that the damage had been done. He had not shed a tear, he had not cried out, and he never did. Even there, standing with Sakura and her face scrunching in ways he knew meant that she was trying to understand what he had said, he felt nothing for his mother.

The cancer had changed his mother’s personality so drastically that Gaara could no longer recognize her as the same person who had had tea parties with him on Sundays, or who had taken him on walks in the parks and let him discover all sorts of messy materials, laughing about how silly he was. In fact, the woman who had raised him had more than likely died sometime around having to decide between having more children and chemotherapy. He had mourned her loss then, but the woman who had screamed obscenities at him in her hospital room was some stranger he could hardly recognize.

The hurt, though, of seeing someone who looked so obviously like his mother lash out at her youngest child had lasted a lifetime. And Gaara’s only form of defense had been to stuff the emotions that came with it down into the recesses of his mind where he had hoped he would never have to live through them again.

The fact that he had even started this conversation the way he had had surprised himself and now he was desperately looking for a way to get out of such an emotional conversation. He felt no deep seeded connection to Sakura, no desire to keep talking with her. But the look on her face was so contemplative, that Gaara also found himself with a desire to know what had sparked such seriousness in her features. The fact that she hadn’t immediately become upset with him was telling that he had struck a nerve within her that had caused her to reevaluate something. And Gaara wanted to know what it was.

Finally, Sakura had steeled herself in her reservations. It was obvious by her cool complexion and the way her shoulders relaxed and her hands had finally unclenched that she had come to some sort of terms with what she was about to announce. In her musings, she had stepped away to a more comfortable distance from Gaara.

“I can’t do that sort of thing to anyone I love. It wouldn’t be fair to them. I’m sorry your mother said those things to you. That wasn’t okay. No child should have to live through that.”

“You probably wouldn’t say those things unless you had the same cancer as her,” Gaara countered. He hadn’t meant for his accidental revelation to change someone’s outlook on their own life.

Sakura laughed. “I’m married to a doctor. I think I know a little about how illnesses work. You’re right. My cervical cancer probably wouldn’t cause me the same delusions as someone with a brain tumor. In fact, I’d probably be saved from any serious personality changes simply by virtue of the fact that nothing in my brain is truly affected by my disease. But, your mother wanted something I do—she wanted another child. I’ve been stuck trying to decide what to do for weeks, because I am so jealous of my wife for having a baby. It’s not fair to my son and it’s not fair to Karin and it’s not fair to my friends that I’ve put them all in such a delicate position. I have to be thankful for what I have, and I can’t always be worried about what I will never be able to do. I’m not going to give up what I have—my family—just because I won’t be able to have everything I ever wanted. That’s what I’m saying.”

Gaara blinked rapidly. Something about what she had said sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place where he had heard it. It had struck some deep chord deep down inside of himself and was reverberating throughout his body. Sakura had said something so poignant that Gaara was speechless.

True, he was a man of few words. He rarely spoke for long periods of time. But it wasn’t like he had had nothing to say, he had simply not wanted to divulge what he was thinking until the time was correct. But here he was, in front of the pink–haired beauty that was Sakura, feeling like he had forgotten the entirety of the English language in one fell swoop. 

“Okay,” he finally stuttered out. What else was he supposed to say? He had made it a point in his life not to tell people what to do with their own lives. If she had found all of that meaning from his short explanation, then more power to her. He couldn’t tell her it was wrong.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Sakura started again, leaning back onto the railing and staring out at the moon, “I know we can get a bit boisterous. I think we’ve always been that way. Naruto can make anyone laugh at anything and, once we start, it’s like we can’t stop. But you shouldn’t let that get to you.”

Gaara nodded, resting his elbows on the metal railing of the balcony and breathing in the salty night air heavily. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Sakura turned to look at him. “You’re not an inconvenience. I just never knew there was so much to you until I found out you had snuck onto my balcony.” She smirked knowingly at Gaara.

Gaara rolled his eyes. “I guess I don’t do well in large, loud groups.”

Sakura snorted. “No one does. When I first met Naruto I nearly died from how much exertion I had to put out just to keep up with him. But then I realized he never makes friends with people who are inherently bad and that he somehow knew everyone’s inner character without even trying. He helped me get out of my shell, and now I’m a P–R manager for a beauty company.”

Gaara had to question Sakura’s statement. While he could see the fact that neither Karin nor Sasuke were especially awful and that Sakura herself was a genuine person, Gaara couldn’t help but question a seedy character like Suigetsu. What possible personal benefits could someone who was so superficial and greedy have?

But, she did have a point that Naruto had always had a knack for knowing what people were like on the inside after knowing them for only a short period of time. The fact that Gaara kept forgetting this fact should have scared him, but he also knew that he had constantly been vying for Naruto’s attention for years now and hadn’t paid close attention to those that Naruto socialized with. It had always been Naruto who had decided to visit him and Gaara had spent very little time in circumstances that involved more than one or two people that Naruto had somehow convinced to come along for the ride.

“Look. Take it from me,” Sakura continued, “Everybody at that table is really a great person. We don’t bite, either. Suigetsu spent the entire week complaining that he didn’t have a proper ‘meet Naruto’s best friend’ tie and Karin spent ages trying to figure out what kind of meal you’d like. We’d love to get to know you.”

Gaara had to admit that anybody who agonized like that over meeting him was probably, in some respect, an okay person. Even Suigetsu had wanted to impress him, and he acted like he had everything.

“Spaghetti is my favorite meal,” Gaara offered in lieu of anything more complicated.

Sakura smiled and laughed. Gaara found himself enjoying her company and he felt guilty for judging her so poorly earlier. Sakura was bright and cheery. Even if she was only putting on a brave face for her friends and family during such an emotional time in her life, Gaara could tell that she had the power of laughter on her side. It was good that she had such a strong friends group (Gaara knew that if Naruto had picked even one of her friends then she would be set for life with good times and support). 

And, Gaara wasn’t afraid to admit that maybe it was a good thing that she had chosen him to share her blubbering emotions to. Gaara had been told by others that he was a good listener. Sometimes the cheeriest of people needed the most cheering up. Naruto certainly had taken some dubious paths that Gaara had had to straighten him out from, and most people would describe Naruto as a ball of sunshine. Gaara felt smug in knowing that, after all these years, he had learned something in the way of comforting people through difficult times. And it wasn’t like Gaara went around blabbing to everyone what had been told to him—who would he tell anyway?

“Come on down. Karin baked a cake for us to have tonight.”

It was an easy answer. On the way back to the table, Gaara felt it was only natural that Sakura kept up a running commentary on the stages of labor. She was married to Karin, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	3. Always a Groomsman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's wedding season and Sasuke wants nothing more than Naruto to ask him to marry him. Surely, now that Sasuke's part of the wedding party Naruto will think to ask? Naruto has a surprise of his own.

Sasuke had been happy at first. He had done all the good things friends were supposed to do when the other got engaged. He had laughed, he had smiled, he had been so very happy for her. And, then he realized he wasn’t. Not really. Sasuke knew he was an awful friend, but he stopped being happy for her. He didn’t want to hear what kind of dress she wanted (mermaid–cut with no sleeves and a lace collar). He didn’t want to know what kind of cake they were getting (five–tier marble because they couldn’t decide). And Sasuke didn’t want to know about the ring (two–carat diamond–cut rubies with a gold band because diamonds are overrated).

And yet, he had agreed to be best man for reasons he couldn’t quite understand himself. Was it the more polite option? Possibly. Was it better for him? Not really.

The wedding had been beautiful. The venue was a perfect mix between the two brides. The tulle flowers secured to the chairs were definitely Sakura. The fairy lights strung in the eaves were from Karin’s influence. Both brides had marched down the aisle together, starting their new life as one. A classic Pachelbel Canon with violin accompaniment whisked them one step closer to their shared life together. The vows had been both fun and serious, meaning so much to the two saying them. Jūgo had cried. So had Ino. Sasuke had clenched his jaw.

He had been wondering the same thing for months: why wasn’t he engaged? He had thought Naruto was going to ask him by now. Normally, the rambunctious man would have brazenly leaped into the fray arms swinging—and yet he had not asked. Sasuke had thought that surely when he had become a part of the wedding party Naruto would bend on one knee, but he hadn’t. The days had ticked by, and still no sign that Naruto was even thinking about marriage. Sasuke knew, at this point, when Naruto was thinking about something as exciting as marriage, but Naruto had, by all accounts, stopped thinking of anything happy. In fact, he was more withdrawn than ever.

It was there that Sasuke paused. He needed to give his wedding toast. He was supposed to smile, speak about love and devotion, about kindness and compassion, and if he let his mind stray into all the reasons why Naruto was morose lately (most of his negative mood seeming to disappear when Sasuke was not there) he would be unable to speak.

“I remember the day Karin and Sakura met,” Sasuke began, “Because I set them up. It was a year ago, both were incredibly stressed and both were brought along by Naruto and me to help reduce their anxiety. When they first laid eyes on each other, it was obvious Naruto and I were no longer in the same world as them. I remember telling Naruto that night on our way home that I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up married. The love they share—it’s wonderful. They can’t stop looking at each other as if they fear that in looking away the best thing that has ever happened to them will disappear. They know what the other is thinking before she says it.

“Karin told me once that she knows she’ll have a good day when she thinks of Sakura right when she wakes up. Sakura confided in me that she hasn’t had nightmares since meeting Karin. I’d like to think I have an eye for true love when I see it, and when looking at both of these brides, I see a future that is filled with love and devotion. It is my hope that these two will see great happiness in life, together as the most beautiful wives in the world. I propose a toast to two of my best friends: Karin and Sakura!”

He meant every word he said. Sitting back down after clinking champagne glasses together with everyone else in the bridal party, being forcefully slapped on the back in congratulation by Suigetsu, and seeing TenTen and Hinata stare at him with blushes adorning their cheeks Sasuke couldn’t help but feel just a little bit happier about his situation. At least he wasn’t alone.

Karin and Sakura were nestled into each other, each dress flowing into the other as if they were one huge person. Both of them were smiling so wide it was as if completely different people had taken over Sasuke’s friends. Karin certainly acted as if her life was beginning anew, forgetting for the time being that she was a resident obstetrician. Sasuke could tell that this was an even happier day than completing medical school, a feat she had almost given up on due to financial constraints. 

Sasuke stared as Karin brushed a strand of bubble–gum pink hair from Sakura’s face. Sakura, despite all the time that had passed since her college days, had never failed to retouch her hair and Sasuke still didn’t know what her original color was. Even among those that had known her the longest there was dissent over the color. Some said Auburn, others said blonde and in the end Sakura never corrected anyone. Karin had said that was one of the reasons why she liked Sakura: there would always be one great mystery left to solve.

Sasuke scanned the reception, picking at his almost–finished plated of food. Naruto sat at a table below conversing intently with Sakura’s mother. Both brides had agreed that Naruto was an honorary member of the family and had placed him at one of the more prominent family tables. 

From Sasuke’s viewpoint, Naruto looked happy. His arms were flailing as he talked, his bright eyes were wide with enthusiasm and his lips were curved into an exuberant grin. Sasuke could only imagine what the two were talking about. Often Naruto could enthuse about the weather, and could make anyone believe they were having the best conversation while doing so. It had often happened that Naruto would read the Family section of the newspaper with such gusto that Sasuke would find himself watching children play on the subway he took to work.

Seeing Naruto interact so congenially with the people at his table made Sasuke wish fervently that he wasn’t sitting so far away. He wanted to be sitting there, with Naruto and listening intently to whatever story the other man had come up with. Instead, he brought himself back into the conversation between Jūgo and Suigetsu.

“…and then we increased the product revenue ten–fold by sending out a weekly newsletter. Easiest quarter–mill I ever made,” Suigetsu said, thumping the table for emphasis.

Jūgo’s brows were furrowed. “Yeah, but how long can you keep that up? Your overhead must be enormous. The expenditures—”

“—Are irrelevant because this is a wedding and no one goes to weddings to talk work,” Sasuke chimed in. Honestly, he would have loved to continue talking about Suigetsu’s business failure, but he didn’t want Karin to get annoyed about ‘shop–talk’ on her big day.

“Who died and made you queen?” Suigetsu asked, but Sasuke knew from past experience that he didn’t mean any malice behind his words. Suigetsu was sometimes a tough man to get along with, but he always made sure to keep his friends in mind when charging for his goals (even if it was a little belatedly). One day, Sasuke could see him owning a Fortune 500 company.

“He’s best man, Suigetsu,” Jūgo said, waving the other off. Despite Jūgo having the emotional stability of a bowl of Jell–O, he was genuinely kind–hearted and always found ways to support those he cared about. Sasuke often wondered what successes were lying dormant in Jūgo’s mind, waiting for the opportunity to let themselves out. As it were, he often bounced from one job to another and had trouble sticking to one career path at a time.

“The question still stands,” Suigetsu replied, but had already started scanning the reception hall. “How’re you and Naruto?” he finally asked, causing Sasuke, who had begun listening in on TenTen and Hinata’s conversation on wedding ideas (they both were planning their own weddings), to jerk in his seat.

Sasuke didn’t know how to respond to the question. He had felt that they were okay, but now he had a sinking feeling that Naruto didn’t want to be near him. “We’re good.” Suddenly, the crumbs on the tablecloth needed to be swept up.

Suigetsu snorted. “You’ve been dating five years and all you can come up with is ‘we’re good.' Man, this is why I never want to settle down. The love dies and all you’re left with is pathetic feelings.”

“Honestly, Suigetsu, you can be so imbecilic,” Karin said, leaning towards Sasuke, “He doesn’t have to quantify his relationship to you and you shouldn’t expect him to.” 

Suigetsu looked like he wanted to respond, but thought better of it. Sasuke could remember a time when Karin and Suigetsu couldn’t wait to fight, but they had slowly learned that there was a time and a place for that. A wedding was neither.

“We should dance,” Sakura announced, pulling Karin to her feet. Karin’s face broke out into a happy blush and she signaled to the live band to start playing the waltz they had picked out for the bridal dance.

Sasuke watched as the two brides danced together, almost as if the entire reception hall wasn’t filled. He knew they had rehearsed this dance, but couldn’t help but feel that the song had been made for them. Each step together was so natural like they fit into each other’s lives as one. And Sasuke couldn’t help but stare out into the hall at Naruto, wishing they acted like that. 

Naruto hadn’t looked at him all night and now he was staring intently at the two brides with such a loving look on his face, Sasuke wondered for the first time since meeting Naruto if dating him was a mistake. Naruto had been so enthused about this wedding, helping Sasuke plan the various aspects of it when inspiration was low, but so far hadn’t thought to ask Sasuke if he wanted to get married.

And Sasuke did want to get married. Especially to Naruto. The other man was everything Sasuke had ever dreamed of snagging. He was so kind–hearted, always putting himself last in everything that he did. Sasuke could remember the first time he and Naruto had gone out to the movies and they had ended up paying for a homeless couple to watch the show, too. 

Naruto was always so confident. He never seemed to falter in his goals, never seemed to waiver in his resolutions. Sasuke wished he had that determination. Naruto had picked a path and had never had to change direction. Even when new people came into play, Naruto just took them along with him. Like how he had asked Sasuke out after knowing him for only a couple of hours. Sasuke had been ready to never see him again, but Naruto had let him into his world immediately, modifying his life goals to include a boyfriend who lived incredibly far away. 

And how he never gave up on anyone, not even when they had done something awful. Like how Naruto forgave Gaara for trying to rip Sasuke and him apart. Sasuke would have dropped Gaara without hesitation, but because Naruto had kept Gaara around, Sasuke had been able to obtain the Explosion Corp case, and successfully launch his career as a criminal defense lawyer.

Naruto had stuck with him for everything, what was keeping him from taking that next step? Was Sasuke just another one of Naruto’s projects? Was Naruto going to drop Sasuke when he felt Sasuke had grown enough? Sasuke was starting to feel queasy so he looked away from Naruto and turned his attention to the bridesmaids.

“They look so cute together,” Hinata was saying, a dreamy look in her eyes.

“And they love each other so much,” TenTen said, dropping her chin into her hands, elbows resting on the table.

“And both so beautiful,” Ino said, her eyes trained on the moving brides, hands tapping the melody to the song playing.

Sasuke had to agree. There was a small, jealous part of him that wanted to announce that his wedding was going to be just as amazing, but he wasn’t even sure if he was going to get married anytime soon. He wanted so desperately for someone to say those things about him and Naruto that there was a part of him that wanted to bribe Naruto into bending on one knee and pretending that was what he wanted.

The song slowed and the groomsmen stood up, extending their arms to the bridesmaids. Ino accepted Sasuke’s hand with a coy batt of her eyelashes. Together, the led the other two couples, Jūgo and TenTen and Suigetsu and Hinata to join the brides on the dance floor for a much more upbeat tango.

Sasuke had tried valiantly to rebuff the dance. He had used every one of his lawyer moves but had been unsuccessful in dissuading Karin and Sakura from choosing a tango dance as the one that the bridal party would do together. Sasuke had said he would have difficulty acting that sensually with anyone other than Naruto, but Karin had called him a ‘stick–in–the–mud’ and an ‘old fart’ and told him to ‘lighten–up.' 

Naruto had said he didn’t mind sharing him for a dance, but Sasuke had seen the look in his eye when Sasuke was heading to the dance floor. As it was the first time Naruto had looked at him all evening, Sasuke had been expected something kinder, but the look on Naruto’s face had been stony, as if he were trying to ignore Sasuke existed.

All throughout the dance, with him enacting heavily practiced moves, Sasuke couldn’t help but wonder whether Naruto really wanted to be in a relationship anymore. Images flashed through his mind of times when Naruto had stared at him with such a look that Sasuke hadn’t been able to know what was expected of him. It was so open, vulnerable and yet so closed off that Sasuke couldn’t understand what it meant. And it was always when Sasuke was at his most open when he was sharing his feelings with Naruto. Like Naruto didn’t want to hurt him. But then, Sasuke would be done airing his emotions, and a look that Sasuke knew meant Naruto was hurt would flash across his face. 

Sasuke couldn’t tell if he was paranoid anymore. He tried to think of times when Naruto and he had shown each other their love and there were so many of those that Sasuke couldn’t imagine Naruto is not wanting to be together. Sasuke could remember a time just the day before where Naruto had pulled him into a bone–crushing hug while watching their favorite movie, Princess Fūn, planting a myriad of sloppy kisses on Sasuke’s face and hands. Or the time when Naruto had brought Sasuke a tomato–themed lunch to celebrate a victorious case fit with a crime drama novel, ROOT, that Sasuke enjoyed to read.

Sasuke could feel the smile trying to burst off his face as the tango completed. His chest heaving from such an emotional dance, Sasuke pulled Ino back to a standing position. The rest of the patrons were encouraged to take the dance floor. Sasuke sought out Naruto.

Naruto was making his way to the dance floor as Sasuke approached. Sasuke tried to squeeze between two couples to reach him, waving his hand to get Naruto’s attention. Naruto caught his eye, was about to say something, when Sakura asked Naruto to dance with her. Naruto gave Sasuke a sheepish look and let Sakura pull him back onto the floor. Sasuke dropped his hand, feeling both put–out and incredibly happy. 

Naruto’s inability to deny someone something was, in essence, what had attracted Sasuke in the first place. If the other sociology students hadn’t wanted to pass so badly, it was possible Naruto and Sasuke wouldn’t have started dating. Sasuke turned to leave the dance floor when Karin caught his arm.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, pulling Sasuke into the center of the floor, “I know you want to dance.”

“Not with you,” Sasuke said as the song picked up into a lively melody.

Karin rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m all that’s here so deal with it.”

Sasuke smirked at her. “I’ll try.”

Karin laughed. “You’re so predictable. Naruto’s a lucky guy.”

“Sakura is a lucky lady.”

“She is, but that’s not the point. You’ve been staring at him all night. You must really love him.”

Sasuke pretended he needed to watch his feet. “I do.”

“But…?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Sasuke, he loves you. You keep thinking that he’s going to wake up one day and realize what you are and will leave. But he already knows who and what you are and he’s not going to leave you for that.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Honestly, sometimes I think you’re emotionally repressed! Naruto can’t get enough of you. He adores you. He told Sakura that you were the best thing that ever fell into his life. He’s not going to let you fall out of it.”

Sasuke hadn’t realized that Naruto talked about him to their friends. The fact that he said such kindhearted words meant the world to Sasuke. “But why hasn’t he asked me to marry him?” the words were out of Sasuke’s mouth before he realized he had said them aloud.

The look on Karin’s face was a mix of exasperation and amusement. “That’s why you’ve been such a sourpuss?” Karin asked. When Sasuke didn’t respond, she laughed. “Sasuke, marriage is about equality. If you want to marry Naruto so badly, then ask him.”

Sasuke frowned. “But it has to be him.”

Karin sighed and shook her head, the song coming to an end. “Then be prepared to wait until he’s ready.”

Karin stepped aside and before Sasuke had a chance to start looking for Naruto again, Sakura took her place. A new song picking up where the other had left off.

“Naruto wouldn’t shut up about you,” Sakura said in a conspiratorial stage–whisper.

“Really?” Sasuke asked, trying not to look too interested.

“Mmhm. He said you were really sweet this morning when you left him that note.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but smile a little. Five years later and he hadn’t failed to send a note daily to remind Naruto how much he loved him. Sasuke’s mother had always said that reminding a loved one of their worth was often rewarding in and of itself. Sasuke hadn’t realized the value in it until he met Naruto and wanted the other to feel loved at all times.

“Okay.”

Sakura grinned at him. “And he said you look amazing in the tuxedo. He wants to see you in one more often.”

“Maybe for special occasions.”

Sakura laughed. “You two sound so similar sometimes,” Sakura said. Sasuke quirked an eyebrow, but Sakura ignored him. “He loves you so much, you know. Half the time we can’t get him to shut–up. And this is Naruto, so you know he just never stops.”

Sasuke was intrigued. For whatever reason, he had thought that Naruto had stopped wanting to talk about their relationship. Whenever Sasuke was around it was like the topic of the relationship itself never came up anymore and was replaced by conversations on work, location or parks. All Sasuke knew anymore was that Naruto really liked big parks because half of their evening strolls had them circling the parks Oto had to offer, with rampant commentary spewing from Naruto’s lips. 

“He’s something else,” Sasuke agreed, not knowing what else to say.

Sakura snorted. “I know you love him. You wouldn’t be with him if you didn’t. Just go easy on him. He’s only a man.”

“What are you talking about?” Sasuke asked.

“He’s not a god. He can get hurt.”

Sasuke wanted to ask what she was talking about, wanted to keep her there until she explained herself, but the song had ended and she had whisked herself away before he could process what had just happened. Sasuke looked around, trying to find her, but she and Karin were happily resting their heads on each other’s shoulders and dancing slowly to the next song. Sasuke was about to admit defeat when Naruto walked up to him.

“May I have this dance?” Naruto asked, extending one hand and bowing a little at his waist. Sasuke couldn’t help but notice how attractive Naruto looked in a three–piece suit. Or how little he missed Naruto’s long hair. In five years, they had been through so much, Sasuke supposed he could wait a little longer to finally tie–the–knot. 

Sasuke took Naruto by the hand and pulled him close, smelling his citrus aftershave. “You would not believe the day I’ve had,” Sasuke mumbled into Naruto’s shoulder.

“Weddings are always full of drama,” Naruto responded, holding Sasuke closer.

“Thank God it’s almost over.”

“This one is, anyway,” Naruto mumbled.

“Then there’s Hinata’s and then TenTen’s. Good thing Ino got married last month. Too many weddings,” Sasuke wasn’t about to admit he only knew any of this because he had become slightly obsessed.

Naruto squeezed Sasuke tighter in a way that Sasuke knew was possessive, a characteristic that Naruto very rarely exhibited. Through his tux, Sasuke could feel Naruto’s chin drop into an uncharacteristic frown. Pulling away slightly, Sasuke stared into Naruto’s darkened eyes and watched as they followed Sakura and Karin as they twirled around the dance floor.

“What?” Sasuke asked, unsure as to why Naruto’s mood shifted so suddenly.

Naruto’s voice was so quiet that Sasuke almost didn’t hear it, “Do you think we’ll ever be like them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	4. To Begin Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forty-year-old widower Rock Lee has decided to start dating again now that his son, Metal, is in high school. After meeting Gaara online Lee feels sure he's ready to mingle. But is there more to both of their intentions than meets the eye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Character Death, Parental Death, Sibling Death, Partner Death

Lee was late. His foot pressed heavily on the gas pedal in his lime green truck, his eyes were glued to the exit signs looking for the one he was supposed to steer onto. He hoped that Gaara hadn't decided that he wasn't worth the time and had already left the Little Susannah Diner. It wouldn’t be too farfetched that someone of his age would decide that such a younger man wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t even be considerate enough to show up on time.

It was their first date; one which Lee was nervous for. He hadn't really dated anyone since his wife Tamaki had passed away three years prior. He hadn't wanted to confuse Metal, hadn't wanted to look like he was abandoning his previous, incredibly wonderful life with her.

But Lee was lonely and Metal was entering high school next month. He was more than ready to mingle, something Tamaki had always asked him to do if she were to pass away. It had been their unspoken agreement: the survivor should live on without fear of damaging their late spouse.

It had been worst–case scenario, something that was never supposed to happen. But then Tamaki had slipped on the ice while skating and worst case scenario became reality. Just like how they hadn't really intended to become husband and wife, and then Metal had come along. Some things were just like that— like all Lee had to do was stumble into them and it would all be perfect. It was never enough, always ended too soon, but while it lasted it was perfect in every way.

Lee pulled into the diner parking lot, a little strip of gravel–covered land with just enough space for half of what the Little Susannah could hold. Lee had been here once before with Metal, knew that they served the best coffee and cinnamon rolls in the county.

He checked his hair in the mirror. He hadn't had a chance to take a shower that day so his cropped black hair was a greasy mess. He sighed at the foreboding feeling of having to explain single parenthood to a man who had never had children. Metal had lost his lucky bracelet and was very distraught. They had looked everywhere for it, turned the house upside–down, but the bracelet either had legs or wasn't in the house anymore. Lee had promised Metal that they would look again once he had gone on his date and Metal had seemed okay with that.

In fact, Metal was acting like his father dating again was the best thing that could ever happen to him. Lee secretly suspected that Metal wanted siblings, people to spend time with while his father was busy working. There were some things that working from home offered and stable work hours was not one of them.

Deciding that he looked as good as he was going to get, Lee pushed his door open and leapt quickly from the truck, slamming the door shut as he landing, securing the trash that he knew was ready to fall out if he weren't careful. That was another project on his long list: clean the truck, and he had yet to get around to it that year.

Lee straightened his sweater, the collar of his Nitro band shirt peeking out under it. He noticed a spaghetti stain on his cuff and that his jeans were frayed at the ankles. These were things he hadn’t had to think about in three years and was now wishing he had spent more time preparing himself for this date. Hurrying into the diner Lee glanced around the fifties–themed, red leather–covered diner for the face he had seen on his computer screen. There in a corner booth facing the parking lot, with a nearly–full pot of coffee sat Gaara. He looked a little older around the eyes than Lee had expected and his shoulders were hunched a little more than his pictures had indicated, but he was still recognizable, still the man that Lee had decided to meet.

Gaara looked like someone who had spent his life doing all sorts of illicit activities before settling down and attempting to clean up his act. His face and arms were covered in tattoos, the one that stood out the most was a freshly–touched up kanji tattoo that Lee couldn’t read but supposed was some form of curse word to fit Gaara’s punk–rock alter–persona. His ears still held large, black plugs, his eyebrow was pierced and he had a heavy layer of eyeliner around his lids. His long hair was turning white, but still held salt and pepper traces around the temples and cheekbones. Lee waved slightly, smiling sheepishly when Gaara waved back, before maneuvering around the other tables in the diner to get to the booth that Gaara had picked out. 

Gaara seemed a little put off that Lee was late as Lee slid noisily into the seat across from him. Lee couldn’t blame him. It was almost thirty–minutes past the time they had designated to meet. They should be halfway through a pot of coffee by now. They should already know if they want a second date.

"Sorry I'm late," Lee began hurriedly, trying to explain that Metal was his son and his priorities lay with him. 

Surprisingly, the childless Gaara nodded in understanding. "I see."

It wasn't much, but Lee had expected something like this when Gaara's profile described himself of a man of few words. It might be nice, Lee mused, pouring himself a cup of coffee, to have someone in the house who doesn't talk at a hundred words per minute. Lee loved Metal, but his hyperactivity could become torturous if not handled properly.

"Your profile indicated that you are an artist. What's that like?" Lee asked after pouring six creams and seven sugars into his coffee. He vaguely registered that Gaara was drinking his black.

"Never a dull moment," Gaara responded casually, "I must admit that recently my focus has been getting the Red Thread Gallery off the ground. I've been putting off my glass blowing so that I can focus on the promotional materials."

Lee was surprised. "You own a gallery?" he asked, because from what he understood about that type of business it took someone more extroverted than Gaara had described himself to actually sell the wares.

Gaara finished taking a sip of his brew. "Co–own. I do all the backend work, including promotional materials while Kimiko works with the clients and merchants more directly."

"Oh!" Lee said, because that made sense.

"What about you? What do you do?"

Lee sighed and traced the lip of his mug with his ring finger. "Well, I used to work in aeronautics, but when we moved here there wasn't anywhere that had a need for an engineer of that nature so I turned to a professorship at Tsuchi University. Currently, I teach a handful of online courses to the juniors and seniors in the aeronautical engineering program."

Gaara blinked slowly before letting out a low whistle. "That's a tough job."

Lee found himself blushing under the praise. "Not really, no. Well," he amended, "I suppose it can have its difficulties."

"Not everyone can understand aeronautical engineering enough to teach it at an advanced level."

Lee smiled as he took a sip of his coffee. Gaara was somehow both incredibly quiet and also very charismatic. He held such a charm, like he was only there to make the room revolve around Lee. Lee couldn’t tell if this were simply due to the fact that he hadn't dated anyone in three years or if he was really drawn to the old man in front of him, but part of him didn't care which reason it was. Gaara made him feel calm, something he had lacked since moving to Konoha.

"Not everyone can be a glass blower, graphic designer, marketer and gallery owner," Lee countered, his smile turning wry.

Gaara laughed, a loud barking noise completely against his introverted character. "I do wear many hats, that's true."

"Yes," Lee said before switching tactics, "What's your favorite food?"

Gaara put down his mug and swallowed quickly. "Little Susannah Coffee," he said, but by the sarcastic tone and lopsided smile on his face Lee could tell it was meant as a joke, "No, my friend, KArin, makes a mean lasagna. I miss it sometimes when I'm cooking for myself."

Lee was curious now. Who was this Karin? The way Gaara's eyes softened when he had said her name meant that he truly cared about her. "Does she live far away?"

"Kaze. The coast, so very far away."

"How did you meet her?" Lee asked, because he felt it was the quickest way to find out if they had dated previously.

Gaara's eyes hardened a little. "Naruto, my best friend, took me to meet some of his college friends when I was in my twenties. Her wife was having some health issues and somehow we ended up talking about that most of the night."

Lee breathed out a sigh. He wasn't sure if it was a sigh of relief or a sigh of regret. Had he known that Karin held such a sad tale he wouldn't have brought it up.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized . . . " but Gaara had already recovered and was sipping his coffee like nothing had happened.

"It's okay. She's better now. Two kids, Jiro and Aoi. Jiro just got married last summer and Aoi started her internship with Faun Magazine—modelling.”

Lee was starting to understand how Gaara could be so understanding when it came to parenthood. “Do most of your friends have children?” Lee asked, hoping he wasn’t prying too much into Gaara’s personal life for a first date.

Gaara nodded. “All but Ino and Sai. I’m the old, bachelor Uncle Gaara to everyone else.”

Lee could imagine Gaara surrounded by little children, all pestering him for attention. In his mind’s eye, Gaara was the one who snuck them candy when their parents weren’t looking.

“Naruto actually has a daughter about Metal’s age,” Gaara continued before clarifying quickly, “Your profile said he was thirteen.”

This surprised Lee. He had somehow imagined Naruto to be around the same age as Gaara, but he had children who were in their early teens. “Ah, so you have other friends who are younger.” It explained why Gaara would want to come on a date with a much younger man who had a young son.

Gaara’s brow scrunched together. His green eyes darkened and glanced around the diner warily. Gaara ran a scarred hand through his long locks and swallowed before setting his gaze back on Lee. “Why would you say that?”

It was Lee’s turn to feel awkward. He felt the heat brush across his cheeks and he took a fortifying sip of coffee before answering Gaara. “I just—Naruto’s daughter is so young, I only assumed….”

It was as if that were enough to calm Gaara down. His shoulders relaxed and he smirked. “It was a tough time getting permission to adopt.”

That was something that Lee wouldn’t know anything about. He and Tamaki hadn’t even been trying when Metal as conceived. It had been tough enough to care for the one child they had so they hadn’t ever wished for more than that. And Metal had kept them busy enough and made enough messes that it was like they had had a houseful of children so it had never seemed so bad. He had, of course, heard the rumors of how difficult it could be for some people to adopt a child of their own, but he didn’t know any more than it could become stressful and taxing before the child had even gotten there.

But now that they were there, at this point where Gaara’s friends had all settled down, had all had children of their own, started families, become units instead of individuals, it started to become confusing why Gaara wouldn’t want to do the same. Lee could remember when he was just starting out, the pressures to have a healthy family, to provide for them in the best way that he could. He could remember thinking that maybe they could have another child, if only to keep up with everyone else in their friend group. He could remember how difficult it was to remind himself that he still hadn’t paid off the bills from the last emergency room visit for something Metal had done and they could barely afford the one child they had. It had been torturous for a while as his friends had started their own families and began to compare each other based on how well their unit was doing as compared to those of their friends.

“Didn’t you ever want children?” Lee asked, and then he realized that it was also strange that this older man had wanted to go on a date with someone so much younger who also had a son of his own when he obviously had no reason to like children himself.

Gaara’s eyes darkened again. He looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he knew where this line of questioning was headed and he didn’t have a proper answer. Finally, after scratching his tattooed temple hastily and moving his body into a more comfortable position on his seat, Gaara spoke. His voice was low, faltering, like he hadn’t entirely thought out what he was going to say, only that it was heartfelt.

“I’ve never liked babies. They’re—well, they’re sticky. I was…more worried about how different my life would be once my friends had children than to worry about having them myself. But…one day I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror and realized I didn’t have everything I wanted. Call it a midlife crisis or whatever, but I stopped wanting to be alone. I wanted what everyone else had—a family. And…well, I figured I couldn’t go wrong with teenagers. That age group tends to enjoy my company.”

So he wasn’t a little–kid kind of guy like Lee had thought? Well, Lee smiled, he still apparently did well with the older children and that was often more difficult to do. And, Lee noticed, he couldn’t help but be a bit moved by what Gaara had said. It was raw, honest. Like one of those romance movies Tamaki had forced him to go to while they had been ditching their college classes. Lee knew, somewhere in his heart, that Gaara had said just the right thing. It wasn’t perverse, it wasn’t ugly, it was tragic and lonesome and beautiful all at the same time. Like a falling rose petal, like a rainbow during a downpour. And, Lee realized, he had become a sap when he turned forty.

Perhaps he could understand the midlife crisis bit, too. When he had first signed up for online dating he hadn’t considered how it would affect him if he were to allow sixty–year–olds to message him. He had only known the faded memories of his father in his sixties and how stable and loving he had been. Lee had wanted stability after three years of walking into the unknown. He had wanted direction and purpose.

And then a man with several jobs, multiple career lines, pictures of himself travelling the world, of roadside diners and mountain peaks, of broken down cars and dignified outfits. His hair turning white, but still salt–and–pepper where it counted. His face serious, but his eyes jovial. His description was somehow inviting and dissonant at the same time, forcing Lee to realize that he wanted to know more about this man. It was the pictures of the lake in the park near Lee’s own suburban home that had done him in. It had sealed that this man must not be too bad if he had lived for so long so close by.

And, somehow it was Gaara who had messaged first, commenting that he had seen the picture of Lee by the very same lake and how they must have just missed each other, much to the delight of the birds that swam in the lake and were fed by every passerby. He had seemed so passionate, yet very reserved and it struck Lee how he could say so much in so few words.

Lee laughed shortly. It wasn’t his normal guffaw. This wasn’t the situation for such a laugh. But it deserved a sort of ironic laugh that allowed Lee to make fun of himself. “I want that too—a family. Since Tamaki…. I just want someone to spend my time with. Metal is wonderful, but he’s only thirteen. He isn’t the only company I need in my life. I need someone—” Lee paused, searching for the right word to use, “—someone mature.”

Gaara smiled, showing off his teeth. “I can’t promise maturity, but I’d be happy to spend my time with you.”

Yet, even as Lee touched his soft hand to Gaara’s calloused one, Lee couldn’t help but notice that Gaara’s smile didn’t quite go to his eyes and his eyes darted away from Lee to somewhere else in the diner, like he was trying to remember something else besides how to spend time with a potential lover.

And Lee couldn’t help but wish that Gaara were several years younger, slightly more busty, curvier and that he had spent ten years with him before this point. He realized that he still loved Tamaki, that he hadn’t quite gotten over her. Yet, there was nothing he could do at this point. He had already agreed to move on, already felt ready to mingle, already agreed to a second date with Gaara. And that would have to be enough, because Tamaki was never coming back. She was gone and he hadn’t been ready for it.

As the conversation trended towards the dark topic of how Gaara’s sister, Temaki, had passed away just the year before, Lee felt himself reliving the terror of realizing he was supposed to go it alone after the doctor told him there was nothing left to do for Tamaki. He didn’t know if he was supposed to comfort Gaara or fortify himself, so he did the only thing he could think to do and hm’d and ah’d to get though such a painful conversation. And somehow it was comforting that, not only did Gaara not need more than that to placated, but also that he didn’t seem so very upset about such a recent death. He was obviously sad that his sister was gone, but he didn’t act like it was the end of the world, often playing off little memories as the best part of his life without her. Unlike Lee who couldn’t help but cringe as he thought of his life before Tamaki had passed.

Gaara’s life was surely one adventure after another. He had travelled the country, he had climbed mountains, broken down in the desert and had to hope that someone would come by and give him a lift to the nearest gas station to call for help. Each of his tattoos held a story, yet he refused to tell the tale of the kanji that Lee found himself so drawn to, citing that it was an embarrassing story. Even that, though, didn’t detract from Gaara’s mysterious air. Lee could tell he was leaving something out, but he just didn’t know what. He assumed it was something even more dangerous than what was mentioned during their brief conversation over the last dregs of the coffee.

And so it was that, when he had left the diner with Gaara after paying half the bill, Lee couldn’t help but feel disappointed that Gaara drove a compact car in a dull brown color. Somehow, Lee had imagined a sports car, or a truck with large tires. Somehow, the fact that Gaara drove such a boring car struck Lee as so strange. It wasn’t that he hadn’t realized that Gaara was no longer the wild child of his youth (he had realized that upon entering the diner), it was that it was almost a message that passion didn’t exist within Gaara’s life. Lee tried to shake that off as preposterous. He knew he was being ridiculous. There were lots of reasons to drive a small car—fuel efficiency for one. But he was feeling slightly jaded, disappointed for no reason like he had been lied to when he knew he hadn’t.

Maybe it was the fact that he realized that Gaara was still not looking directly at him, and even when they had hugged goodbye Gaara hadn’t said his name, only a curt “Goodbye” before getting into his car and driving off. Something about that felt so strange to Lee. Granted, he hadn’t been dating in over thirteen years, but he certainly thought that there would be some passion in a man’s eyes when he said goodbye to someone he had just agreed to do a second date with. It was possible that he was rushing this, that, since Gaara was so much older, that he came from a different culture where one didn’t rush too quickly into love. It was possible, he allowed, that he was being nothing more than an annoyance insisting on such an intimate action on such an early date. Still, he couldn’t help but feel put out by how lackluster the end of the date felt. He had wanted something more fiery, more passionate to end his night on.

But it had been such a long time since Lee had had such hope, such a possibility of love in his life that he decided that it was nothing, that it couldn’t be anything, that it was only his nerves playing tricks on him. Gaara was just what he was looking for, and if he played his cards right, Gaara would become his next ‘forever’.

Perhaps even Lee recognized that he was going too big too soon because when Metal asked him how his date went, Lee merely shrugged.

“We’re seeing each other again next week.” 

And that would have to be enough for him, Lee reasoned, because the one who he wanted didn’t exist anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	5. End of an Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke visits Naruto to look at neighboring law schools. Gaara is positive that their relationship is going sour. However, when Gaara chooses to intervene, it forces Naruto to come to terms with his own feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicide, Parental Death, Character Death

“….which means that, according to this theory, each choice a person makes is completely based on reason. This is really cool because it means that people are always thinking about the benefits of their actions before they do something. This creates….”

Gaara paused at the door to his apartment, listening to the conversation being held inside. His joints ached from the tiring day he’d had and his hand was sporting a nasty burn where the metal from the clamp had nicked him in a moment of distraction. He also really didn’t want to go inside.

Naruto was in there, and so was his boyfriend. Gaara didn’t want to socialize today—he never wanted to socialize, and yet Naruto kept bringing people home. That man was like a child: always dragging poor souls home with him so he could make them feel better. Well, it was making Gaara feel worse!

Sighing, and realizing he would rather be inside than in the stairwell, he dug his keys out of his pocket. He felt that, had he known Naruto was going to be this much of a kidnapper, Gaara wouldn’t have offered his apartment to him. Gaara was steadfastly ignoring the part where he and Naruto had known each other practically since birth. That part, he decided, was unimportant in this analogy.

Gaara twisted the knob and pushed the door into the apartment. The light from the living room blinded him momentarily. In the first few weeks that Naruto had moved in, Gaara had been adamant that nothing neon, sparkly or shiny was allowed in the common spaces. And then it just became too difficult to enforce, because almost everything Naruto owned fell into one of those categories.

“Gaara, you’re not dead!”

Naruto could be so overly–dramatic sometimes, Gaara thought, stalking into the room. It was far more likely that it would be Naruto who died an untimely death, what with all the strangers he spoke to everyday. Gaara just happened to have the unfortunate lifestyle of someone who wished to live on a deserted island, alone, but also happened to attract people who couldn’t stop talking to him.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Gaara said in a monotone. His eyes scanned the room quickly, noticing the other person in the room. Naruto’s boyfriend certainly looked like a buzzkill. Dark hair, dark eyes, wearing business casual—this was not what Gaara remembered Naruto’s ‘type’ being. Usually, he was hanging off some asshat’s arm while the other was grinning so stupidly Gaara thought his brain cells must have run off and left him. And they always ended the same: Naruto drowning his sorrows with a bowl of ramen, watching TV reruns in his boxer shorts, crying about how everything reminded him of the man who left him.

“Gaara, this is Sasuke. You know, the guy I told you about?” Naruto’s eyes were wide and hopeful as if he truly wanted Gaara to like his new beau. Well, Gaara was never one to tell Naruto what he could and could not have. Naruto probably wouldn’t listen anyway.

Sasuke’s hand was outstretched, reaching into the small space between the sofa and the door as if expecting Gaara to actually do something with it. Gaara stared at the hand, feeling like he’d rather not touch anything that clean.

“Dirty hands,” Gaara said finally when the hand didn’t disappear.

Sasuke’s calm expression had faltered for a moment before his hand dropped back to his lap. Naruto, true to form began talking rapid–fire to anyone who was willing to listen.

“Gaara’s a glass blower. He was at the studio today working on an awesome new project. He won’t tell me anything about it, the jerk. Anyway, he makes beads sometimes, big multi–colored balls, plates, bowls, and glasses. He did a silverware set one time, too—purely decorative. Vases….He does lots of stuff, actually. Anyway, he’s been going to art fairs on–and–off all summer and still has a few more to do. I’ve been helping him get exposure!”

Gaara was already in the kitchen pretending to wash his hands when Naruto finished. Gaara shook his head at how excitable Naruto could be. It was just like when they were kids: always talking so fast that it was a wonder the guy could breathe. Still, Gaara thought, it came in handy in situations like this. Gaara didn’t have to socialize much with a person who wasn’t going to be around long anyway.

“Oh,” Sasuke was saying, looking at Gaara over the ledge in front of the kitchen sink, “My grandparents have an antique glass dish set. The colors are incredibly vibrant.”

Gaara stared at Sasuke. That had to be a setup. Right? Everyone knew about Venetian glass and how colorful the pieces were. And yet, Sasuke was acting like he was expecting an answer. Almost like he had been trying to connect on a ‘deeper level’ with Gaara. 

“Yes, it sounds marvelous,” Gaara finally managed to say. Naruto beamed at both Sasuke and Gaara.

“Didn’t I say you two had so much in common?” Naruto said to Sasuke, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. Sasuke’s face didn’t break out into an uncontrollable grin. In fact, he barely gave any indication that Naruto had touched him. Gaara smirked inwardly. If there was one thing Naruto hated, it was someone who wasn’t expressive. Gaara was the exception, but he and Naruto had been through things that most people couldn’t fathom. This Sasuke kid wasn’t going to make it long without making drastic changes to his personality.

Gaara sat down in the chair next to the sofa. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Seven months,” Sasuke responded, almost creepily fast. Gaara wondered what kind of brain he had on him. Not a large one if he couldn’t see exactly where this relationship was headed.

“Sasuke’s looking into Kusa Law School over in the next county. I thought that I’d show him the area while he was out here,” Naruto said, and then it clicked what type of person Sasuke was: he was a lawyer. Naruto had had his days in his teens. Breaking the law had come almost naturally to him. Gaara could remember joining in on occasion. Even now, when Naruto was older and wiser, Gaara couldn’t see him as a ‘straight–laced’–type of person.

“Remember when we snuck into that old bat Tsunade’s house and tried to raid her liquor cabinet?” Gaara asked, turning to Naruto.

Naruto grinned sheepishly, rubbing his neck. “Aw, man! I’d almost forgotten about that. We got away before the cops came and—”

“—and she was so drunk she couldn’t remember what we looked like. Good times.”

Sasuke stared at Naruto, but Gaara saw interest in his eyes, rather than scorn. “How old were you?” Sasuke asked.

“Oh man, sixteen? I think we were sixteen, yeah. I mean, I got into a whole lot of trouble when I was younger. My parents thought I was going to end up in jail!” Naruto replied.

Sasuke turned his stare on Gaara. “Did you put him up to it?”

“Believe it or not, I was the good influence.” It was true. Naruto’s parents always wanted Naruto to spend more time with Gaara because Gaara was always doing better in school and always resisted peer pressure the most. The notion was especially so when Naruto’s father committed suicide. Unfortunately, two teens with working single parents and very little supervision meant that they both got into even wilder hijinks.

“Oh, he was! He always told me not to do it because I would regret it, and then I’d drag him along and we’d both get into trouble and I’d be the only one regretting it,” Naruto was laughing now.

Sasuke smirked. “Itachi was always covering for me when I was younger. Somehow he always knew when I’d done something wrong and would convince my parents that it was actually him.”

“Yeah, well Itachi loves you. Do you know what he said to me when he found out you and I were dating?” Naruto said, giving Sasuke his wide–eyed, give–me–something stare.

“What?” Sasuke asked, leaning into Naruto.

“He gave me an analogy on flowers. You were this ‘flourishing

orchid’ that was ‘pure and white’ and that I was the ‘honey bee’ coming to ‘extract your pollen’. I think he gave me a B on the final essay on purpose, too!”

Sasuke was staring at Naruto with a soft smile on his face. Gaara noted that the boy didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor. This relationship was turning out abysmally.

“That’s a rich analogy since you’ve already been ‘deflowered’,” Gaara said, casting a knowing look at Naruto. Naruto had stopped smiling and was now staring sullenly at Gaara. Gaara ignored his look and launched himself out of the chair, “Anyone want a beer. It’s cheap.”

“I’ll take one,” Naruto said swiftly, obviously trying to change the subject. Gaara recognized denial when he saw it. Naruto apparently thought that his and Sasuke’s relationship was going smoothly, was turning out to be better than all the ones before, but Gaara had been the best friend and voice of reason for too long. He could see trouble coming from the horizon, he could smell the change in the air. This was one relationship that was better ending before it had a chance to begin. Naruto needed to rip the band–aid off quickly or else he was just going to repeat past mistakes. 

Gaara reached into the fridge and pulled out two beers. In the living room, he could hear shuffling as if two people had moved further away from each other. This was it, then, Gaara thought, this is how it’s going to be. He would have to do this, no regrets.

Walking back into the living room Gaara tossed one of the beers to Naruto who popped it open quickly and chugged. Gaara opened his a bit more gracefully and took a sip. Sasuke was looking at him intently.

“Why did you two exchange a look?” Sasuke asked. Gaara was pleased with how perceptive Sasuke was.

“Like I told you, Gaara and I have been friends for an incredibly long time,” Naruto said quickly, but Gaara could tell Sasuke wasn’t buying it. Sasuke was curious, insatiably–so, and it was only a matter of time before this bit of information came to light. It was better to let it happen here and now when Naruto could still recover than to let it happen months from now when Naruto was invested.

“Long enough to take a few wild turns,” Gaara agreed. The look Naruto gave him was heated, the beer coursing through his system. Gaara had been friends with Naruto long enough to know that the blush on his cheeks was from anger, not embarrassment.

“It was a long time ago,” Naruto said, his eyes darting towards Sasuke. Sasuke was looking between Gaara and Naruto carefully as if trying to decide what was going on. Gaara could understand the confusion. He had seen it many times over the years. 

“We were fifteen,” Gaara interjected, causing Sasuke to turn his attention to him, “and in love.”

Gaara could see the gears whirring to life in Naruto’s brain, trying to come up with something that would sound acceptable. Sasuke hadn’t taken his eyes off Gaara. Sasuke’s facial expression hadn’t changed and his body language was still composed, but Gaara had a feeling that Sasuke was only putting on a brave face.

“It was only thirty seconds,” Naruto said. His eyes had dropped into a silent scream. He rubbed one of his scarred cheeks hastily. Sasuke looked back at him, his face contorted into a glare.

“Correction. You were thirty seconds,” Gaara said, noticing how Sasuke looked back at him imploringly, “Our first time,” Gaara answered.

“You two dated?” Sasuke finally asked, looking back questioningly at Naruto. Naruto had decided that the stain in the carpet next to the leg of the sofa was most interesting. His beer still held in one hand.

“We were so young. And stupid. You heard what we did when we were sixteen—we—It was only logical at the time,” Naruto hadn’t looked up. In fact, he had sunk his body further into the couch.

“How long did you date for?” Sasuke asked. Naruto let out a strangled breath.

“Three years. We started when we were twelve,” Gaara said.

“Three years? So, you broke up shortly after having sex? And, still spent enough time together to break into some poor old woman’s house? And now you’re living together?!” Sasuke was on his feet now, a new energy had engulfed him. His dark eyes were passionately wide, his body shook from exertion and he swung his arms viciously from side–to–side. This was a side that Gaara would never have expected from Sasuke. So passionate, so fiery. It was a shame that he reacted like this to this story.

“My dad died,” Naruto’s voice was almost inaudible, “Suicide.”

Sasuke deflated. “I—I just can’t right now,” he ground out and then flung himself out the door.

The silence in the room was deafening. Naruto stayed curled in on himself as if trying to erase his existence from the world. His beer had been set on the floor, discarded somewhere during the argument. For the first time, Gaara wondered if he had done the right thing. Crumpling his own empty beer can, Gaara got up and tossed it in the trash.

“That was anticlimactic,” Gaara said, trying to ease the tension. Normally, Naruto reacted angrily when the conversation managed to reach this point. But the Naruto in front of Gaara was oddly silent.

“You’re an asshole,” Naruto finally said, straightening himself out and standing up from the couch. Gaara was shocked that the anger was directed at him.

“I was just trying to help. He was so different from you.”

“I like that he’s different! Can’t you see? I know what I used to date. Who I was with them. I just wanted to do something better. I like Sasuke. He’s an amazing person! He likes sociology and he’s interested in law. He wrote his entire application essay on why lawyers need to be socially conscious when representing clients. He can hold a fucking philosophical conversation and he always dresses nicely—especially when he’s sick! I like that he smells like cinnamon. I like the way he holds my hand when no one else is there. I like the way he listens even when I'm verbose and I like the way he sends me notes in the mail!

“I think I might actually be falling for him—might actually love him—and you go and say those fucking, stupid things! I don’t care that we slept together when we were fifteen. I don’t even care that we had a long–winded romantic relationship then, either. What I needed today was a friend, my best friend, and you go and try to pick a fight! Why the fuck would you do that? What is wrong with you? 

“Does our friendship mean so little to you that you just felt like throwing it away? Do I mean so little that you don’t want me around? What the hell were you thinking? Because right now, I’m so pissed at you I have to remind myself that you have good qualities. Right now, I can’t think of a single one of them—and I’ve known you all of my life. You’re fucking sick, Gaara.” And, with that Naruto grabbed an orange sweater off the sofa and headed for the door.

“I have to go find him. He’ll get lost.” Naruto said as he slammed the door shut.

All that was left for Gaara to do was think about what Naruto said. He and Naruto had been through so much. The untimely deaths of both of Gaara’s mother and Naruto’s father had propelled them into a friendship so good it had spanned an entire lifetime. Their romantic relationship had meant so much at the time, but now was merely an adventure they had shared seven years before. Their friendship was so great, that it had managed to stay intact while they both went to different colleges, and that they had decided to become roommates after graduation.

And Gaara was willing to let all that slip away because he didn’t want Naruto to blubber for days about another failed relationship. It was at that moment that Gaara realized he had been acting unreasonably. There was a reason why Naruto had gone on to start a graduate program in social work and Gaara had turned to the solitary activity of glass blowing. Naruto was invariably better at helping people realize their faults in a positive manner, and Gaara apparently liked to kick people when they’re down.

The evening’s events played repetitively in his mind. He watched as he sneered and poked fun, how he needled and pried. He looked like a rabid animal, and he hadn’t acted much better. Naruto deserved better from a friend who had been there through everything. Naruto, though he had his faults, would never have done anything remotely like what Gaara had done.

Gaara had no intention of throwing away the lifetime of friendship that they shared. In fact, he had been banking on the fact that Naruto would be around forever. They had talked about being best men at each other’s weddings, and Gaara had a picture of Naruto in a tutu and fairy scepter to show whoever got to that point. Gaara couldn’t imagine his life without Naruto—even long distance they had managed to communicate nearly every week and see each other every summer and winter holidays. Their spring breaks had been epic—even if all they had done was spend the week shifting from one parent’s house to the next and playing pranks on Kankurō and Temari when they were in town.

Gaara could say that he had cared so much about Naruto’s emotional happiness that he hadn’t wanted a repeat of the previous times he had been emotionally hurt, but standing in the glow from the aftermath, Gaara couldn’t quite understand how he had ever seen what happened as the happiest solution to the problem. Had he been so caught up in a non–functional solution that he failed to remember that the ‘we used to date’ conversation was almost always marred by the ‘Naruto’s dad violently killed himself’ conversation? And if he did forget that fact—the only reason why they remained friends after such an emotional break–up—then what kind of friend was he?

As Gaara’s pacing neared the middle of the living room, the apartment door opened and in stepped Sasuke. Gaara stopped pacing and stared at him. For the first time, Gaara wanted to speak openly with him, wanted to converse nicely together. But he couldn’t. His tongue was tied with the importance of the conversation and his heart was weighed too heavily on his conscience.

“Where’s Naruto?” Sasuke asked, seeming to realize someone needed to clear the air.

“Out, looking for you,” Gaara responded.

Sasuke nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll wait here for him, then.”

As Sasuke sat back down on the couch, Gaara realized he needed to speak to him, to tell him who Naruto really was—not this figurehead Gaara had painted him to be.

“Naruto and I have been friends a long time,” Gaara began. Naruto was always better at this part than he was. It had gotten them out of a lot of trouble.

“I won’t be in your hair much longer, don’t worry,” Sasuke burst, glaring at Gaara. Gaara stood his ground.

“Just—Just let me finish,” Sasuke nodded his head and waved his hands. Gaara took that as a sign to keep talking, “We’ve been through a lot, he and I. We grew up in the same neighborhood, our parents had parties together and our dads worked together when we were young. We went to all of the same schools had all of the same friends. But he and I consider each other as our first friends because we’re the ones that lasted the longest.”

“You could have spared me these glorious details. I don’t need to know them,” Sasuke interrupted.

“But they’re important. Can’t you see? Naruto and I would have ended up dating no matter what. The fact that we put it off for as long as we did is a sign of how stubborn both of us are. I’m bull–headed, he’s cock–sure. The fact that we dated doesn’t really hold any significance anymore to either of us. It’s just something we did as teenagers,” Gaara was trying to explain what was on his mind, trying to impart his most special knowledge of Naruto into him because, for the first time, Gaara wanted one of Naruto’s beaus to succeed.

“If it didn’t mean so much, why bring it up in the first place?” Sasuke was really smart, Gaara decided, because he kept interrupting in the middle of a really important story.

Gaara sighed and started pacing again. “Because Naruto’s dad shot himself shortly after Naruto and I broke up and Naruto found him.”

If it had been any other circumstance, the look on Sasuke’s face would have been amusing. But, the pinched features on his face were drastically outshone by the gruesomeness of the conversation. The fact that he hadn’t said anything showed Gaara that he was ready to understand.

“Naruto’s mom was supposed to come home first, but she’d been delayed by work. So, Naruto stumbled into the house and subsequently the kitchen to see his father, dead, gun still in his mouth, top of his head on the opposite cabinet. And he didn’t know what to do, so he called me. And for reasons I still don’t know, I picked up and together we called the police. When Naruto’s mom came home, she went from one extreme panic to the other—first thinking Naruto had gotten hurt, and then knowing her husband was dead. It turns out, Naruto’s dad had acquired a lot of debt and couldn’t pay it off with the money coming in from his sculpture business. He felt trapped, with no exit, and that’s when he decided everyone would be better off without him.”

“Shit, when we met, there was a discussion on Durkheim.”

“Look, Naruto has done his best to move past that part in his life. He probably has no ill will to anyone who mentions suicide, or talks about death. What he has always needed, though, is a friend, because sometimes he just needs someone to listen. Life will get too tough, and he’ll become scared he’s going down the same road as his father. I’ve always been that for him, but you could become that if you wanted it.”

Sasuke nodded, a serious look on his face as if he were trying to find fault in a testimony.

“Tonight’s epic failure is my fault. I was crass, I can get that way sometimes. I shouldn’t have provoked a fight, but I felt like you were going to be another failure, and I was tired of playing cleanup crew. I messed up, so blame me instead of Naruto. He really likes you—a lot. I think if he loses you like this, he’ll drop me, too. I don’t know if I can handle that. I know I don’t want that to happen. I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry,” Gaara finished as best he could, but a part of him always felt itchy when people stared while he talked.

“Apology accepted. You’ll owe me one,” Sasuke said, a gleam in his eyes that made Gaara immediately regret even trying to salvage the relationship. The sneaky bastard probably had no intention of ever dumping Naruto in the first place. Damn lawyers.

The apartment door swung open again and in came a very wind–swept Naruto. “Oh, thank God, Sasuke. I looked everywhere for you!” he called, flinging himself into Sasuke as if he had never thought he’d see him again. Sasuke hugged him back, showing for the first time that night that he was capable of a caring emotion.

“I’m so sorry. For everything. Please forgive me,” Naruto continued, his voice muffled by Sasuke’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Sasuke said in response, his voice almost inaudible as his lips pressed against Naruto’s cheek, “Gaara and I just came to an agreement. I don’t think he and I will be having issues anymore,” Sasuke continued with in a louder tone. From what Gaara could see of Naruto’s face, he knew that Naruto was both relieved and elated.

“I’m so glad. Gaara can be an ass sometimes, but he’s my ass, and I can’t imagine my life without him,” Naruto said, still talking into Sasuke’s shoulder.

Gaara, for his part, held his tongue. This was going to be the start of an incredibly interesting relationship, between himself, Naruto and Sasuke. But, in seeing how happy Naruto was that Sasuke was there, safe and staying, Gaara thought he wouldn’t mind having this as his repentance.

“I wanted to ask, Gaara,” Sasuke said, extracting himself from Naruto and looking at Gaara, “The tattoo on your forehead—it’s the kanji for love. What’s the meaning behind it?”

Gaara stared blankly at Sasuke for a moment. Of course he knew kanji. That was just perfect. “A reminder that love is eternal. No matter how far you run from it, it’ll always find you.”

Sasuke seemed satisfied. His body was relaxed now, almost as if the entire conversation hadn’t happened. In that action, Gaara could imagine Sasuke as a lawyer, fully composed in court as he argued rationally in defense of his client.

Sasuke yawned and stretched his arms. “It’s late, I’m going to go lie down,” he said as he gave a meaningful glance towards Naruto. Gaara looked outside and realized that night had fallen. Judging by the position of the moon it must have been almost ten o’clock.

Sasuke whisked by both Naruto and Gaara and shuffled his way into Naruto’s bedroom. Naruto had a gleeful look on his face as if he might erupt into laughter. “That’s pretty rich, Gaara, considering we both got wasted off the hootch your father was brewing and convinced the guy at the tattoo parlor you were eighteen.”

Gaara smiled. “And yet, I’ve never regretted it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	6. The Doting Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day set aside for cleaning out an old storage room quickly becomes a day going down memory lane. Meanwhile, Naruto and Sasuke's kids have beginnings of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Gangs

It was Saturday. Naruto and Sasuke sat at the kitchen table eating a hastily put–together breakfast of cereal and orange juice. Sasuke was reading a piece of paper with great interest, a small frown washing across his features. 

“Guess what your child did.”

Naruto paused, a spoonful of Bran Flakes half–way to his mouth. “What do I owe the honor of taking full responsibility for one of the children?” In his old age, Naruto found peace with a sardonic attitude.

Sasuke disdainfully passed the offending paper over to Naruto. “Sarada’s report card.”

Naruto took the paper with a raised eyebrow. “I had an incredibly successful track record in school.”

Sasuke sipped his orange juice. “You failed the A–C–T.”

Naruto scanned the page. “Yeah, whatever,” he said, then slapped the paper down on the table. “This can’t be my fault. Her lowest grade is B–plus in Social Studies. If it were my influence, she would have a low grade in Government or Trig.”

Sasuke shrugged. “You must not have done a very good job at explaining to her what it entails to be a social worker. She must have thought Social Studies was social hour.”

Naruto drank the dregs in his bowl. “You worry too much. These are only mid–term grades. I’m sure that by semester’s end the grade will have raised.”

“She’ll never get into Suna Tech with her abysmal grades,” Sasuke said, before eating a spoonful of cereal.

Naruto laughed. This had been an ongoing argument since adopting their children. “There’s more to life than studying, Sasuke. When I applied to Suna’s P–H–D program, they also looked at community involvement. Sarada has more than enough extracurricular activities to be considered for that.”

“She’s slacking off and squandering her future. I never used to have to question her motivation,” Sasuke’s facial expression was serious like he was giving an opening statement in a courtroom.

“If you’re so worried about it I know a psychiatrist who can test her for a learning disorder and another who can diagnose her with mental illness.”

Sasuke’s shrugged, already scanning the political section of the newspaper. “President Sarutobi is too young, he doesn’t have the experience needed to run this country. He’s ruining our reputation as a country!”

Recognizing the dismissal of the argument, Naruto drank some juice. “I don’t know. He’s done a lot of work for restoring landmarks and reducing the wage gap. The people like him well enough,” He said, before picking up his dishes and standing up.

On the way to the sink, Naruto leaned in towards Sasuke and placed a peck on his lips. Sasuke dropped the newspaper over his bowl and twisted his body into the kiss. When they parted, Sasuke said: “The kids are all out.” In breathy tone.

Naruto bit his bottom lip. “Maybe after we clean out the office.”

Naruto hadn’t wanted to say that. Sasuke and he had been trying valiantly for six months to clean out the room they had dubbed ‘the office’ ten years ago. It had once been the nursery, but with all of their children out of diapers it had seemed appropriate to recommission the room. There had been dreams of a room that the two of them could escape the ever–increasing stress of parenthood, but instead the room had turned into a glorified storage locker with very little room to escape anything.

And, so it was that that that Saturday had been presented to them and Naruto saw it as the opportunity they couldn’t give up. Neither he nor Sasuke had work obligations (a feat in and of itself) and all of the children were out of the house until the evening. Naruto wasn’t about to pass that up just because ‘the mood’ has struck.

Sasuke grunted a response, folding his newspaper, creasing each fold twice. A small wrinkle appeared on his forehead. Over the years, Naruto had come to love that little wrinkle and knew how to get rid of it without too much work on his part. Washing his dishes in the sink, he glanced over his shoulder at Sasuke, who was pretending to not stare at Naruto.

“I love you,” Naruto said, placing his bowl on the drying rack.

Sasuke’s eyes softened and the wrinkle vanished. A smirk brushed over his face. “I do, too,” He said standing up with his dishes in one hand. Naruto knew that Sasuke was only being sarcastic to hide other, more complex emotions and so when Sasuke came up behind him and slapped him playfully on the behind he wasn’t surprised.

“Bastard,” he said, spinning away from Sasuke, more so that Sasuke could use the sink than to get away, “You’re such a narcissist. You can’t even say you love me.”

Sasuke caught Naruto firmly with his free hand. Setting his dishes in the sink, he pulled Naruto closer to him. “Idiot. If you actually thought that we wouldn’t be here right now.” Sasuke rested his head on Naruto’s shoulder, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed a spot,” Naruto said before twisting around and pulling Sasuke into a passionate kiss. 

Sasuke wrapped his arms tightly around Naruto, pulling Naruto in closer. “I do love you, even if you can be a pain sometimes,” he whispered in Naruto’s ear.

Naruto extracted himself from Sasuke’s arms, a confident grin spread wide across his face. “Then it’s settled. Do your dishes and meet me in the office.”

Naruto walked down the hallway of the suburban home. Pictures dotted the walls. The picture of the door to the church where they had gotten married, shot in black in white and framed simply in silver metal, was a constant reminder that there was always a door to a happier opportunity, you just had to find it. The pictures of Naruto and Sasuke at the peaks of several fourteeners were reminders that together they could overcome any obstacle.

The family portrait of all seven of them was hung halfway down the hall. Naruto could imagine that his family was perfect in it, but he knew better. Menma had pulled Sarada’s hair just before the picture had been taken and Boruto had shoved Himawari for standing too close shortly after the camera shutter had clicked. Minato had been the only one not to engage in the sibling rivalry, but he was also the only one who got along with everybody. 

Further down the hall, almost hidden away in the shadows hung the diplomas that Naruto and Sasuke both achieved. Naruto mused that obtaining those degrees had been so important at the time but now felt like a lifetime ago. Now, Naruto had new obligations, new goals, that pushed him to achieve more in life. If only he had realized how much drive he would have when becoming a father, he would have settled down and done it sooner. There was something empowering in protecting your child from the horrors of the world.

Naruto stopped at the furthest door down, his hand resting on the knob. Taking a deep breath, he twisted the knob and pushed the door into the room. Dust drifted out of the darkened room and into the hallway. Naruto scanned the piles of memories thrown in haphazardly. Heaps of knick–knacks, stacks of baubles and towers of trinkets littered the room. He sneezed twice, rubbing his nose. He’d have to remember to do a deep clean before converting the room to an office.

On one end was Sasuke’s cycling bike from when he had decided to enter a triathlon. It had been hastily discarded when Sasuke had been thrown over the handlebars due to a stray pebble in the driveway. It had been decided that bicycling was not Sasuke’s sport. In another corner was Naruto’s CD collection. Once a great tribute to the best rock bands of the century, now a horrifying reminder of how uncultured he had been in his teens.

Naruto saw boxes of toys from when the kids were younger. The boxes of Barbies from when Himawari, Sarada and Minato used to play together and the boxes of Tonka trucks from when Menma and Boruto were into construction games. It was amazing at how to some of the children these interests had faded, but in others it had grown into a strong passion. Like how Boruto was in his freshman year at Konoha University studying Mechanical Engineering, or how Minato was in his final year of trade school studying to become a beauty technician.

Naruto heard Sasuke making his way down the hall. Naruto flipped on the light as he stepped into the room, a hazy brightness engulfing the room. “It’s a little dusty,” Naruto said, clambering over a pile of clothes.

Sasuke snorted, then coughed as dust flew up his nose. “A little is an understatement,” He said, making his way towards a clear patch in the carpet.

Naruto pushed aside a box overflowing with Halloween decorations and sat down. Sasuke was already sitting and staring the piles around him. “The goal is to be done before Himawari’s date this evening,” Naruto announced, picking up a box and starting to sort through it.

Sasuke frowned as he picked up a pile of papers and started to leaf through them. “What’s his name again?”

Naruto squinted at the lumpy ball of multi–colored plastic in his hand, trying to decide what it was. Eventually, he determined it was one of the kid’s art projects. Apparently none of them had ever been good at sculpture. “Metal Lee. Gaara knows his father and says he’s a little weird, but not perverted or anything,” Naruto responded, tossing the sculpture piece into a box.

“Are we sure that’s accurate? Gaara’s not that good of a judge of character. Remember that Explosion Corp gang he almost got initiated into? I don’t want a repeat of that court case.”

Naruto sorted ballet outfits from when Menma had taken up dance to become a better football player. “You just don’t like Gaara because he was mean to you when you first met. That was almost forty years ago, I think it’s time the elephant forgets.”

Sasuke tossed the papers in his hand into a box and started sorting through a pile of baby clothes. “This elephant makes a living in not forgetting.”

Naruto pulled a box closer to himself and dumped it onto the floor. “Well I make a living in being nice to mean people. I guess we’re both cursed.” After sorting all the items from the box into shiny, sparkly and neon Naruto looked over at Sasuke, “Which kid did we get this much eighties glam for?”

Sasuke looked up, a gleeful smirk spreading over his features when he saw what Naruto was sorting. “Those are yours. I can’t believe you don’t remember.”

Naruto stared back down at the pile a look of abject horror on his face. “What? No, I had much better fashion sense than that!”

Sasuke went back to sorting the clothes. “That stuff covered the apartment you and Gaara shared.”

As Naruto thought of it, most of his memories of that apartment included a very vibrant home even though it had been low–income housing. “Gaara must have hated it, he hates glitter. How come you never said anything?”

Sasuke shrugged. “It was part of your charm,” he said casually before looking over at Naruto, “Besides, I wasn’t about to ruin my chances with you just because it turned out that you had horrible fashion sense.”

“I guess I was pretty sexy, huh?” Naruto said cheekily, picking up some of the items and tossing them in the box.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have dated you if you had shown up wearing that abomination,” Sasuke said, pointing to the neon–orange, hard–leather backpack with silver glitter glued to it in Naruto’s hands.

Naruto looked down at the awful–looking backpack. He knew Sasuke had liked him for more than his physical appearance even before Sasuke had. Naruto had a very vivid memory of Sasuke nearly falling out of a cushy armchair during a passionate speech on gay rights. More importantly, Naruto could remember the wind knocking out of him when he had entered Itachi’s house and saw Sasuke staring sullenly at the sociology students coming in. Naruto had wanted so desperately to speak to Sasuke, but Sasuke had only grunted when Itachi had introduced him. It had taken all his courage to come up with a reason to stay at the house when the party had ended, and even more to seek out Sasuke when Itachi’s back was turned.

“Another victim to Goffman’s dramaturgy,” Naruto said, tossing the offending item into the box.

Sasuke returned to his sorting. “I don’t think that men wearing pleather were what Goffman had in mind when he came up with that theory.”

Naruto pushed the box of terrible fashion choices aside. “I didn’t wear any of this to a party with my sociology professor. I think the theory fits.”

“Catch,” Sasuke said, tossing a small fabric object towards Naruto. 

“Baby shoe,” Naruto cooed, marveling at the tiny converse shoe in his hands, “Can you believe they were ever so little?”

“Can you believe we spent money on all this? They grew out of it too quickly,” Sasuke said, indicating to the several piles of tiny clothes around him.

Naruto stuck his pointer finger in the shoe. “We made all of them wear these. I think we got a fair amount of use out of them.”

Sasuke threw down the clothes he was sorting. “Why did we keep any of this? Most people just give it away when their kids grow out of it.”

Naruto frowned, still holding the shoe. “I think we always expected there’d be another. You know the old adoption saying: ‘when it rains it pours’. We were given so many so quickly, I think we thought one day there’d be more.”

Naruto shared a look with Sasuke. Despite how far they came, they could still remember the terrible feeling of rejection when it came to adoption. At times it felt like their hearts couldn’t break any more and then they would shatter. They had been given a baby once, but the birth family had denied their adoption request. 

There had been a time within the household that neither Sasuke nor Naruto could muster the energy to desire to be married. In those dark days they had fought so horribly about every little thing. They had repetitively asked each other if leaving was the better option. It had taken a strong friend–base to keep them together. Thanks to everyone they knew, they had pulled it together and decided to let it all go to fate.

And that was when they got the call. After countless rejections, and countless sleepless nights, a young mother had watched their adoption video, had found them interesting enough to be considered, and was just far along enough that the adoption agency listened to her pleas to let her child be given to them. Just like that, they became parents.

Within a few months of Menma coming home, another young mother requested them. They had decided that if one child had made a family, then two would make a home. Two became three, then four and finally Himawari was five. Within five years, they had such happiness that they couldn’t remember the reasons for the fights that they gone through during the early days of their marriage. 

Staring at the baby shoe, Naruto could remember looking down at Menma on the day he was born, Sasuke by his side, feeling like the universe had finally shined down upon them, while also terrified that something would go wrong and this baby, too, would be taken away. But he could also remember feeling such a strong feeling of love and devotion. Overnight his priorities changed. He felt compelled to succeed, but his definition of success was different. He had realized in that moment that his child was more important than any promotion at work and every opportunity he was given needed to be in the best interest of the tiny, helpless person staring blankly up at him. Sasuke, too, had felt the pull, switching from a criminal defense lawyer to a family lawyer practically overnight. Parenthood suited them, and they had taken to it like a fish does to water.

“We’re not having another one. It’s been hard enough to get rid of the ones we have,” Sasuke said, tossing the remaining clothes into a pile.

Naruto chuckled. “Here,” he said, tossing the shoe, “I don’t know,” he said as Sasuke caught the shoe, “They are kind of cute when they’re that little.”

Sasuke glowered at Naruto. “No more diapers. I refuse.”

Naruto waved him off. Naruto wasn’t too keen on the idea of another baby, either. He felt too old to be considering raising something that needed that level of attention. Half the time he forgot where he put his reading glasses after he had just used them, he couldn’t imagine trying to remember a feeding schedule.

Naruto pulled another box towards himself and started sorting through it. “Why do we have five copies of Princess Fūn?!” He exclaimed, pulling out several DVD cases, “I know we watched the shit out of this when we were dating, but five copies? That’s a bit excessive.”

Sasuke pulled a box closer. “We kept losing it, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Naruto made a face, “The kids are each getting one for Christmas. If we don’t give them culture while they’re still young they’ll never understand how amazing life is.”

Sasuke snorted. “And you think Princess Fūn will give them the understanding of life?”

Naruto beamed at Sasuke. “It worked for us, didn’t it?” Naruto said.

Sasuke gave Naruto a pitying look. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Naruto stuck out his tongue at Sasuke. “Thank you, honey.”

There was something about finding the Princess Fūn set that made Naruto and Sasuke stop sharing everything that they found. It wasn’t that the find had been a bad one—both Sasuke and Naruto still told everyone that the movie was by far the best cinematic experience ever—but, for both it had triggered a feeling of nostalgia so strong that it was becoming harder to be objective in regards to everything in ‘the office’. Naruto had to focus very intently on what he was sorting through or else everything he touched wound up in a ‘keep’ pile. 

Suddenly, everything that was from one of the children—even the ugly Christmas tie that they had splurged on to give him—was too good to give away. Naruto found himself struggling to decide whether the plastic beaded necklace he held was art—and he had a degree in art promotion—or if he should trash it. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it.

Finally, Sasuke let out a loud groan, effectively stopping the debate Naruto was having with himself over a crocheted tea cozy. “What?” Naruto asked, looking over to Sasuke who was staring intently at the contents of the box in front of him.

“The entire collection of Root,” Sasuke said, pointing disdainfully at the open box.

“You love that series,” Naruto said, scooting closer to Sasuke to try and see inside the box.

“I did. Until the movie came out. I can’t read Danzō the same way,” Sasuke said, holding up one of the volumes.

“What was wrong with the movie?” Naruto tried to remember the movie, as he was sure they saw it together, but couldn’t come up with anything but a blank movie screen.

“It flopped at the box office. It was so awful that people demanded refund tickets. They changed almost everything about the series. It had much younger characters and absolutely no indication of the massive coup that took place halfway through the series. And they completely took out all the backstory between Danzō and the president. It was horrible, just exposition the entire movie,” Sasuke was leafing through the volume with disinterest, occasionally stopping to stare intently at a page.

“My film critic man,” Naruto teased, flicking Sasuke’s arm.

Sasuke swatted him away. “How’s sorting coming along, Naruto?”

Naruto huffed a huge sigh. “Awfully. Everything I look at reminds me of expectant little smiles and I can’t bring myself to break those little hearts.”

Sasuke smirked down at Naruto. “You always have been a big softie.”

“Hey, all you’ve been sorting are your things. Maybe we should switch places?”

Sasuke sighed. “Fine,” he said, rolling onto his knees and crawling over to where Naruto had been sitting.

Naruto looked at where he was and started picking up scattered items and trying to discern what each was. Naruto found that Sasuke’s area had much less children’s items and was therefore much easier for him to sort what was deserving of a space in the home and what should be given away. 

Several hours went by with Naruto easily shuffling items into boxes and Naruto could tell that they had made great headway already. He was immensely proud of their work, feeling like they would more than likely finish the sorting process before the kids all came home from the various friends’ houses they were staying at.

“Naruto?” Sasuke said, stopping Naruto in the middle of deciding what to do with a pair of dress shoes.

“Yeah?” Naruto asked, looking over at Sasuke.

Sasuke was holding up a white photo album with a smirk on his face. “Remember this?”

Naruto’s eyes widened. “The wedding book!” he said, getting up and walking over to where Sasuke was. “You were in so many weddings that year, I thought we were going to go broke.”

Sasuke wrapped his arm around Naruto’s shoulders. “Your friends love me,” he said, opening the book so both he and Naruto could look at it.

Naruto pointed to a much–younger Sasuke in a three–piece suit. “God, you were such a playboy. No wonder Ino wanted you hidden away at the back.”

Sasuke smirked. “I think I still look like that.”

Naruto knocked his shoulder into Sasuke. “Only to me.”

Sasuke turned a couple pages, skipping over wedding cakes and bridal pictures. Finally he stopped at a picture of him in a tuxedo. “Karin and Sakura’s,” he said as Naruto’s mouth morphed into a large grin.

“The day we decided to get serious with each other,” Naruto said fondly, “We went home and discussed our lives, what we wanted, who we wanted to be with, how we wanted to do it.”

“We made a plan and stuck with it. And five years later—”

“Five years later we said to hell with the plan and got married anyway,” Naruto finished, planting a kiss on Sasuke’s cheek.

“No regrets?” Sasuke asked, glancing over at Naruto.

“Never. You’ve made me the happiest man in the universe. I don’t think I could live without you.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

Naruto turned the pages in the book, flipping past group shots and venue photographs, settling on a picture of Sasuke in business casual looking bored. “Look at that hair. It stuck up so much in the back.”

Sasuke scratched the back of his head. “It still does.”

Naruto twisted so he could see the top of Sasuke’s head better. “Yeah, what’s left of it.”

If looks could kill, thought Naruto. “I still love you even if you are balding.” He said, leaning back into Sasuke.

“And I still love you even if your memory is failing.”

Naruto laughed, flipping more pages past stag–do’s and limousines, stopping when another picture of just Sasuke came up. “The last one, Tenten’s.”

Naruto stared down at the picture of Sasuke. It was the first wedding photograph where he didn’t look like he wanted to be somewhere else. His hand was being held by someone off–screen, and Naruto knew that the other person was himself. Sasuke was staring half at the camera and half at Naruto with such a look of adoration Naruto felt a stirring of passion course through his body. This was what he remembered when he thought of the dating years—that look that was meant especially for him. It didn’t matter to Naruto that they had found hardship in later years, or that even in that photograph they hadn’t quite figured out who they wanted to be in life, or how they wanted to do it. What mattered to Naruto was that even when everything had been tumultuous Sasuke had loved him for everything he was.

“They made me be mushy because I told them I was going to scowl if they took this photo,” Sasuke said, starting to flip the pages again.

Naruto didn’t want him to, but also knew what picture was at the end of the book. Sasuke stopped turning the pages when he got to a picture of him and Naruto, both in suits, Naruto in black and Sasuke in blue, with red and white roses in their lapels. Younger–Naruto stared intently at Sasuke as if looking away would make Sasuke disappear. Sasuke was holding Naruto’s hand as if he had the same fear about his grasp. Both had elated looks on their faces.

“You looked better the day after our wedding day,” Sasuke said. Naruto knew that what Sasuke was trying to say was that he felt that Naruto had improved with age, and that the aging process had started immediately after the wedding.

“I don’t want to change you either,” Naruto agreed, resting his head on Sasuke’s shoulder. Sasuke twisted where he sat so that he could kiss Naruto on the lips.

“Ew! So gross!”

Naruto and Sasuke separated, Naruto with a sheepish grin on his face. “You’re home early, Sarada,” Sasuke said, scooting a so that there was more distance between him and Naruto.

Sarada had always been the ‘good child’ of the family, rarely causing more trouble than was necessary and doing exactly as she was told. Naruto was very proud of how responsible she had become.

“Yeah, we finished studying early and I didn’t have any money so I just came home,” Sarada said, staring around ‘the office’. “Looks like you’ve been busy, though. It looks great in here!”

Naruto beamed. “Thanks! We’ve been working really hard!”

“Ooh! What’s that?” Sarada asked, stepping into the room and heading for the box with all the brightly colored items. Sarada picked up the neon–orange silver–glittered leather backpack and stared at it with wide eyes.

Sasuke gave Naruto a look that Naruto knew all too well as Sasuke indicating that this particular problem was his issue. “Do you want to keep that?” Naruto asked.

The pure–joy in Sarada’s eyes told Naruto that he had made the correct choice. “Can I?” When Naruto nodded she squealed. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you! I have to go text Chocho!” and then she ran excitedly out of the room, backpack in hand.

Sasuke had amusement in his eyes when he looked back at Naruto. “And you say that her poor grades can’t be your influence.”

Naruto shrugged. “I think I can live with it.”

Sasuke pushed Naruto playfully. “You’ll spoil her if you’re not careful.”

Naruto was going to respond when the front door slammed open. “Dad!” Minato called, stomping down the hall, “Dad!”

“You have been beckoned,” Naruto said to Sasuke motioning for the door.

“Do you think if I don’t answer he’ll give up?” Sasuke asked Naruto in a stage–whisper.

Naruto started pushing Sasuke to a standing position. “Does it ever work that way?”

Now standing, Sasuke started to pull Naruto up, too. “No,” Sasuke said.

Naruto brushed the dust off his clothes. “Then probably not.”

As if on cue, Minato flung himself into the room, eyes wide, chest puffing, arms swinging. Minato was one of those teens that everything was an issue and everything needed to be solved immediately. Naruto was sure that with time Minato would grow out of this particular phase, but it didn’t seem like this growing up would happen any time soon.

“Dad, you have to do something,” Minato said loudly.

As Sasuke had many years of experience with hardened criminals and wayward teens, he didn’t react to Minato’s harsh tone. “Tell me what happened,” he said instead in a calm, clear tone.

Minato huffed a couple of time, no doubt building stamina. “Shikadai is being an ass. I told her I don’t want to meet her dad right now. But she keeps insisting! It’s all she ever talks about anymore. It’s so boring. Can you teach me how to use reverse psychology to break up with her? Please?”

It was a good thing that Naruto had been a case worker for many years so he had training on how not to laugh during what someone else thought was a crisis. Still, there was a part of himself that thought it odd that Minato would go to Sasuke for psychology sources. It was, however, more entertaining to watch the wheels in Sasuke’s head spin as he tried to come up with the proper response to such an unusual question.

“If you want to break up with someone, you need to be upfront about it. Remember: honesty and integrity are your two most important assets.”

The look on Minato’s face was a mixture between murderous intent and rejection. His shoulders slumped and his arms flopped loosely at his sides. “But–but isn’t there an easier way?”

Sasuke rubbed one of his eyes. “The easiest way is the right way—with honesty and integrity.”

Minato let out an exasperated grunt. “Fine. You can’t help me. I’ll just go ask Sarada. She’s broken up with lots of asses,” he said and flung himself back down the hall.

Naruto looked at Sasuke. “Never a dull moment in this house, is there?”

Sasuke shook his head. “I can’t believe he wanted me to break up with his boyfriend for him.”

“He’s a teenager and breaking up is hard. He’ll grow out of this awkward stage eventually,” Naruto said, resting his hand on Sasuke’s shoulder.

“I take it we’re done sorting for the day?” Sasuke asked, turning to face Naruto.

“I don’t think we’ll get anything more done at this rate,” Naruto conceded.

Just as on a typical Saturday, Naruto heard the front door open again. “Minato!” came the cry from Himawari, “Minato!”

Overhead, Minato’s footsteps thundered down the stairs and crashed into the foyer. “Yeah, Himawari?” Minato asked.

“Can you make me look beautiful for my date tonight?” Himawari said so quietly that Naruto could barely hear it.

Naruto heard Minato tapping his foot on the ground and humming before finally exclaiming: “It’s possible!” and storming back up the stairs, Himawari in tow.

“How long before Sarada and Himawari start fighting?” Naruto asked, staring intently at the ceiling as if trying to see what was going on up there.

“Maybe Minato will cancel it out,” Sasuke said, making his way to the hallway.

“Don’t count on it,” Naruto said, following him, “I’m going to clean down here. I don’t want to meet this Metal guy with such a dirty house.”

“I’ll play police upstairs,” Sasuke said.

When Naruto got to the living room he blanched. He had thought that by having two kids living away from home that the house would become cleaner by virtue of their being less children to mess it up. Instead, with two children out of the house the other three had become messier. He had long ago decided that the phenomenon was due to the others feeling like they finally had more space.

Cleaning had never been one of Naruto’s favorite chores. He had never realized the point of it until his house was no longer inhabited by people who would do their own share. Now, all that he wished for was a house that cleaned itself so that he had more time to do other, more important tasks like making dinner or running errands.

He could never quite remember if he had been as messy as his children were. There was a nagging sensation in his head every time he complained about how much effort it took to keep the house clean that wouldn’t let him forget that somehow it might be karma kicking him for treating his mom’s house in the same way. There were times when he had called his mother to tell her he was sorry for acting so awfully to her, and each time she had laughed and told him that she had never held a grudge on it.

The kitchen was less messy as the two who had spent the most time in there that day had been Naruto and Sasuke. Naruto stared at Sarada’s report card, musing that she had always been Sasuke’s favorite child and as such held to a higher standard than the other children. He knew Sasuke was just looking out for what was best for her, but Naruto did worry what would happen if she couldn’t live up to Sasuke’s expectations.

The doorbell rang and upstairs Naruto heard Himawari shrieking in what he could only assume was pure panic. He could remember that feeling when it came to dating. His own awkward teen years had been overshadowed by an overprotective ex–boyfriend. He could remember how he had tried to date multiple times while still living so close to Gaara and somehow they had all been scared away before Naruto could get a chance to go further with them. Honestly, Gaara was a perfectly nice person, it just took time to gain his trust.

Naruto heard the door open and Himawari greeting Metal shyly. Metal bounded in, flouncing and bouncing if his footfalls were anything to go by. He was speaking about the glories of youth, how wonderful it was to be alive and generally making a fool out of himself. Naruto shook his head—that was something he had done a lot, too.

With a resigned sigh (with so many kids it often became a chore to meet the new person they were dating) Naruto walked out of the kitchen and into the foyer. “You must be Metal. I’ve heard so much about you,” Naruto said, sticking out his hand for Metal to shake.

Metal stared up at Naruto with wide eyes. Grasping the outstretched arm and shaking firmly he said. “I, too, have heard so much about you, sir! The beautiful Himawari here speaks very highly of you! I respect such a wonderful father such as yourself!”

Naruto felt his arm going numb from the velocity on the shake. “Thank you, Metal,” Naruto said as he managed to free his hand. “Let me get Sasuke down here. He’s been dying to meet you, too,” Naruto said, turning towards the stairs, “Sasuke, stop sharpening your katana and come down here to meet Metal who’s taking our very own Himawari on her first ever date!”

Naruto knew it was cruel, but he and Sasuke did it to every poor soul who tried to date one of their kids. It was, in some way, how they protected them from harm. The drained look on Metal’s face was priceless, and welcomed. At least he was no longer bouncing up and down. Himawari was glaring through her heated blush, but Naruto knew that at the end of the night she would thank them for it.

Sasuke walked into the foyer casually, stopping when he was standing next to Naruto. Metal stuck out his hand to him, but Naruto noticed that it was shaking. Sasuke took the outstretched hand and shook slowly. “We love Himawari so much. She’s really the best thing that has ever happened to us. We can’t imagine what we would do to someone who did something to her,” Sasuke dropped Metal’s hand. Metal’s mouth had dropped open, “Be home by nine and have fun you two.”

Metal couldn’t have escaped fast enough. He practically dragged Himawari out the door. Naruto heard Himawari trying to explain that he and Sasuke weren’t going to try and kill him as the door closed shut. Naruto couldn’t help but laugh just a little, but the smile on his face dropped when he looked over at Sasuke.

Sasuke’s back was turned and his shoulders shook in a silent sob. Naruto reached out and put a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong? You didn’t act like this with any of the other children.”

Sasuke wiped his eyes and turned towards Naruto. “It’s nothing,” he said.

Naruto wrapped Sasuke in a hug. “It is something. You never cry.”

“They won’t need us anymore,” Sasuke said feebly into Naruto’s chest.

Naruto pulled Sasuke out at arm–length. “Of course they’ll still need us. We’re their parents.”

Sasuke shook his head. “They’re growing up, Naruto. Soon they’ll all be out of the house—what will we be then?”

“They’ll still need us for things. Think about how important our parents are for us. They watch the kids and help us pay for Christmas. We still need our parents and we’re parents right now.”

“But—” 

Naruto wasn’t going to let Sasuke finish whatever thought he was going to say. “My mom helped us get our marriage back on track. She sat with us and helped us talk through our feelings. She gave us the best advice possible and that was that we needed to stick through it or else we’d regret it. And she did it because she loves me so much that she didn’t want me to squander my life with you. Your father saved our wedding, remember? We forgot the rings and he not only drove all the way back to get them, but he made sure that they made it onto our fingers. And your mom helped us find our first apartment together. Without her, who knows where we would have lived!

These are just some of the examples of what our parents have done for us when we became adults. Just because our kids won’t need us to pick up their clothes each day or pay for their groceries doesn’t mean we won’t still be just as important. It’ll be different, but we’ve lived through much larger changes than that before and we’re still fine.”

Sasuke stared at Naruto for a long time, not speaking. Naruto knew he needed to process it all so he waited patiently. Finally, Sasuke spoke, “This is why I married you. Because for every issue, you see the positive side. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I’m glad I never had to find out. I never want to let you go.”

Naruto grasped Sasuke’s hand in his own. “And you’ll never have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	7. Man of All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of Neji's third divorce, Metal and Himawari are having a homecoming party. After a slip of the tongue threatens to break Lee and Gaara apart, Neji realizes he may be able to save his own marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Divorce, Teen Pregnancy, Poverty, Gangs, Domestic Argument
> 
> AN 2018: So. I read back through this whole story for the first time in two years. This chapter is DARK. I honestly didn't expect it to be this negative when I started reading it.
> 
> Teen pregnancy is NEVER something to be ashamed of. Though, perfectionist Neji going through his third divorce and longing for happiness/love may think it *could* be.

Neji sipped at his wine slowly, letting the tart taste glide over his tongue and lull him out of the conversations happening around him. The party was slow, marketed as just a simple get–together among friends, some whom Neji hadn't seen in a year. Yet, he was discontented. It was difficult to associate with those who were all married or on their way to marriage when his own married life was in such shambles. 

He supposed he couldn't blame TenTen for her lack of love for him anymore. He supposed that it was only natural, this being their second marriage and how their first had erupted into implosions of volcanic magnitude. He supposed he could keep on supposing things and never be done with the circuitous motion of it all. Because, really, it all came down to him lacking something. He was the problem, the only continuous piece to the puzzle.

Neji's clouded eyes scanned the room, a simple living room sparsely furnished with only a shoddy sofa and a rather large and out of place floor lamp. In one corner stood Naruto and Sasuke, speaking in low tones to Hinata, Kiba slipping away into the kitchen no doubt looking for more of the crackers and cheese that had been making their way around the room an hour before. Next to them stood the young couple, Himawari and Metal, their two–year–old son, Taiki, passed out upstairs. The party was a homecoming for them, a congratulation for finding inexpensive housing that would fit their small family. Naruto had thought it might be good for them to experience some sort of joy from all their misery––teen parenthood was never easy and the strain had hit Metal especially hard, Himawari was always the more mature of the two. Neji knew, from the lack of furnishings, that it was really a ploy to get more appliances for the two teens, but he also knew he was a bit of sap for hopeless cases and had already promised Sasuke that he was going to buy them a proper bed and not just the mattress that was lying unceremoniously on the floor in their bedroom.

In the other corner, no doubt split from Sasuke and Naruto to catch the most people unawares, were Lee and Gaara. Lee was doing most of the talking, he was the more charismatic of the two and the most invested, Metal being his son, after all. Gaara was more of a threatening force that offered moral support to Lee as he flourished and bounced in a similar manner to his son.

Love was an enigma, Neji mused, sipping again at his wine. Had anyone asked him three years ago whether Gaara would ever settle down he would have scoffed. Gaara was a bachelor, an old fart, a geezer––crotchety, even. And Neji had told him so on the eve of when all Neji's marital struggles began again. He had sat across from Gaara at the poker table and had told him, in a complimentary tone, that he was the crotchety geezer of the group––and the next thing he knew Gaara had whisked Lee off his feet and they were living together and sharing food at the table. That was the last time Neji felt like giving Gaara such a strong compliment––if he was just going to squander his future by getting attached then it wasn't worth the trouble. 

Neji saw Sakura from across the room. After retirement she had decided to go wanton and carefree and dye her hair a myriad of colors in ombre fashion. Trailing behind her casually was Karin, head doctor at the hospital where she had interned all those years before. They had practically begged her to come to them. Neji couldn't help but scoff at how preposterous that was––the woman who almost didn't finish medical school telling a bunch of young med students how best to deliver a baby. How times had changed.

Sakura caught Neji's eye and sauntered over, her own wine in hand. As Sakura saddled up next to Neji, Karin leaned into their space, lacing her fingertips into Sakura's. Their son Kerry was somewhere in the house, their daughter had video called in from a fashion shoot in Japan earlier in the evening, joking about living in the future and knowing what lay in store for all of them. 

Neji eyed Sakura and Karin warily. They were often the "fixers" of the group, solving all sorts of dubious problems even from halfway around the globe. They looked harmless enough, and Neji supposed that his ruined marriage was old news by now and they had already realized that some things just couldn't be fixed.

"What'd you get the squirts?" Neji ventured.

Karin glanced around the room to make sure that no one was listening in. Everyone else was distracted by their own conversations to notice that they were talking about the biggest taboo of the party.

"A toaster and a microwave. Their kitchen is really bare. You?"

"A bed. Anything is better than what they've got right now."

Sakura nodded. "Poor things. So young. It was hard enough when we had Jiro and we were married and pretty well established. You remember what it was like?"

Neji took a long sip of wine. "Postponed my first divorce by about three years. Worst three years of my life, though."

Karin frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Sakura gave a her a stern look and she closed her mouth quickly. Instead Sakura spoke, "Sorry. I forgot those were the circumstances when Yoshi was born."

Neji didn't want to talk about himself and this conversation was treading into dangerous territory. "What do you think of them?" Neji asked instead, nodding to Lee and Gaara doing the rounds with the party guests. Lee was waving his hands about something and Gaara was resting his hand gently on Lee's shoulder as if to try and calm him down.

"I never would have guessed that Gaara of all people could look so...soft. He's like a giant teddy bear when he's with Lee––don't tell him I said that, he'd kill me." Karin's comparison of Gaara to a cuddly animal brought a snicker to Neji's lips and Sakura too was trying to hide her smile. It was strange thinking of such a hardened man as anything other than a shark, but Karin had a point that something had softened in Gaara the day he had met Lee.

"That age difference though..." Sakura said, shuddering, "Lee was just born when we graduated from college––hell! He's only a little bit older than Jiro!"

"That dog," Neji muttered, sneaking another glance at the two of them. They had moved on from Ino and Sai and had started to talk to Jūgo and Kurotsuchi. Jūgo was such a softy that it would be a miracle if he didn't promise the rest of his life's earnings to Metal and Himawari by the time Lee was done talking to them.

"They love each other though," Karin added, "Just look at them, they haven't been apart the whole evening. Gaara can't take his hands off Lee."

Sakura stared fondly in Lee and Gaara's direction. "Remember when we used to be like that?" she asked as she leaned into Karin's shoulder. 

Karin leaned back, snorting. "Yeah, then we got married, moved halfway across the country, had a kid and you got sick. Then we did it all over again and that just about killed any mushy stuff we had left."

Sakura laughed. "Yeah. Maybe I should find myself a younger girl on the side just to spice things up."

Karin rolled her eyes. "If Jiro didn't kill you, I would."

"Aren't you two romantic," Neji spit out. It wasn't spiteful, merely annoyed. He was tired of everyone being married and in love or otherwise content with not being married and not being in love. He was tired of being tired. Twenty sounded much nicer than sixty–two, but the one invention that hadn't become reality in his lifetime was a functioning time machine.

It was Sakura's turn to roll her eyes. "Fine, Neji. Fine," she said airily, waving her free hand, "They're a cute couple," Neji grunted, "And they obviously care about each other so it's not our place to get involved. They were both legal when they made the decision to date."

"It's a midlife crisis, is what it is," Neji countered. 

Karin nodded in agreement. "But they've stayed together this long, and with everything that happened with Metal and Himawari that's sort of an accomplishment. Most midlife crises would end once grandchildren are on the line. They've obviously stuck it together through most of the bad stuff. You know how badly this tore Naruto and Sasuke up and they've been together longer than any of us. If Gaara and Lee can make it and only have just started dating, then I think we should be supporting them and not trying to tear them apart."

Neji couldn't help but see the logic in that. He thought of how he and TenTen had tried to make it work over and over again but there had never been anything that truly made them stay, only things to make them pack their bags to leave. If Gaara could weather such a serious storm, then it was only natural that they should be together. 

It just didn't seem fair to Neji that the man who he had been sure would never marry could have figured out the secret to a happy relationship before he had. How had someone so closed off discovered the secret to love, an act of opening up fully to another person?

Karin nudged Sakura subtly, nodding her head slowly in Lee and Gaara's direction. "Gaara's eyeing us. We'd better go before we're asked to pay next month's rent, too."

And with that, Karin and Sakura slipped away silently to talk with Kiba, who had, at some point, returned from the kitchen with a box of crackers and a plate of cheese. Neji thought about joining them, thought about slipping away from the looming prospect of having to speak to Gaara and Lee, but before he could convince his legs to move into another conversation with people who had pitying eyes, Gaara had gotten Lee to start walking his way and Neji knew he was caught.

"Neji," Gaara said shortly, wrapping his arm around Lee heavily. It was staring at the harried Lee that Neji realized that Gaara's hand was not a calming gesture, but a comforting one. Lee had no doubt wanted what was best for his son and becoming a father shortly after his fifteenth birthday was not always the easiest path to take.

"Gaara, Lee," Neji said, nodding his head at both of them in turn, "Nice party."

It was a lame response, but Neji didn't know what else to say. How do you say "I'm sorry your kids messed up so badly that you have to beg from your friends to keep them with a roof over their heads" in a nice way? As far as Neji was concerned, there wasn't any way to soften that blow.

"Thank you so much for coming. It means so much to Metal and Himawari that you're here––and us," Lee started, his hands fidgeting as he talked, "And Naruto and Sasuke as well," he added almost as an afterthought.

"It was my pleasure. And don't worry, I already signed myself up for buying them a proper bed. If the kid doesn't keep them up, they'll sleep like the king and queen they are."

Was it superfluous? Yes, but as a man of many words, a journalist by trade, Neji had learned that over complimenting often served as an ice breaker and broke down barriers that would lead to the real story. His words did seem to do something as Lee's eyes softened from a frenzied look to simply a harried one and his finger stopped picking at his shirt buttons.

"Thank you," Lee practically burst, "They really will appreciate that. Thank you."

Neji sent a silent thank you look to Gaara who had been able to prevent Lee from hugging him. Neji didn't really do overly emotional and Lee was on the verge of a serious mental breakdown if his nervous mannerisms were anything to go by.

"Hear anything from Demolition Corp?" Neji asked Gaara awkwardly. It was meant as another ice breaker to release the tension in Lee's shoulders, but Gaara's eyes darkened suddenly and his hand on Lee's own tightened unexpectedly. Lee himself looked imploringly at Gaara like he had never heard anything more absurd.

"Demolition Corp? That inner city gang in Gaara's hometown? Why on earth would we hear from them?"

"Gaara was a member, didn't you know?" It was only after Neji had revealed this secret in a highly sarcastic tone that he realized that Lee truly hadn't known that Gaara had been involved in such a serious organization and if his look of rage that set itself across his face were any indication, he hadn't taken the news lightly.

"There's no need to be sarcastic," Lee started. 

Gaara gave Neji a pitiful glare. “Lee, honey," he began, met with a chorus of "don't honey me" from Lee, "It was a long time ago. I was young, and stupid and didn't realize what I was doing until it was too late," Lee scoffed, "Sasuke saved me in the courtroom."

At that Lee flared. "Oh, so we owe our livelihood to them. What else do we have to thank them for? Another grandchild?!" Lee's tone was low, the words hissing out between his teeth. 

"That's not their fault," Gaara tried to be soothing, but apparently some things never change and it came out more biting than Neji assumed Gaara had intended.

"Yes, defend them, like always," Lee spluttered. 

Neji watched in part horror, part humor as Lee and Gaara devolved into a series of short clips and jabs at one another. Gaara was trying desperately not say anything too awful while Lee seemed to bring up every instance of so–called betrayal from Gaara ranging from the time he burnt a chicken dinner to the much more serious matter of not supporting him when Lee had been having trouble keeping up with his work load at the university he taught at. Gaara’s responses were short, clipped, leading Lee to believe that he was hiding more than he was letting on, initiating a more serious argument than that of a criminal record years in the past.

Neji hadn’t thought it possible, but Gaara was turning red in the face from the strain of keeping his voice low and Lee was becoming more animated with every word that slipped from his mouth. Gaara’s eyes had hardened, his body tense and Neji could see a red rash forming on his neck as he tried answering all the impossible to answer questions spewing from Lee’s lips. Neji had never seen Gaara in this type of state before. It was more than flustered, more than annoyed. It was angry and brash, haughty with a hint of boldness Neji hadn’t thought Gaara capable of. And Lee wasn’t taking it. He was mad, like this had been the ultimate betrayal leading to all other betrayals to come to the surface. He was more in control of his blood pressure, hitting Gaara with a set of words that Neji knew had been picked out specifically to make Gaara hurt.

“No wonder your mother thought you were a demon!”

“I can’t believe they let you run a public gallery with that kind of record!”

“Well, I never liked your art anyway!”

It was amazing that this fit of outrage hadn't caught the attention of the rest of the party goers, but somehow no one else had heard the strangled noises now emanating from both Lee and Gaara as they argued about this and that and huffed and puffed in their anger. Finally, after several sharp words, (“I’m going up to check on my grandson,” with such an emphasis on the word ‘my’ that it was obvious that Lee was completely excluding Gaara’s involvement in the child’s life), Lee flung himself away from Gaara and stormed upstairs. Neji had to admit that there was a certain finesse to having such a vicious argument in public where absolutely no one had noticed that it was going on, even when Lee had loudly stomped up the stairs.

Gaara stared after him and gave Neji another pitying look. "Thanks for that." His tone was slow and punctuated like he was trying very hard to not to raise his voice.

Neji licked his lips slowly, breathing in and out of his nose to calm himself down. If he were honest with himself, he hadn’t meant to cause such a reaction. He had assumed that after three years Gaara would have told Lee about the part of himself that had gotten initiated into a criminal organization. And, Neji had seen such looks of anger on others faces like the one Lee had worn as he had stalked off. That look had meant that Lee was contemplating ending the relationship, that he was over Gaara’s attitude, that he was having a hard time finding a reason to hold on. Neji had seen it during each of his previous divorces, and now, leading into his third divorce, he had the honor of seeing it every time he spoke with TenTen.

"I take it he didn't know?" he asked the obvious because there wasn’t anything else to do but stare at the forlorn Gaara.

"No," was Gaara's curt reply before carefully following Lee up the stairs. Neji could hear the unspoken words drifting behind Gaara as he disappeared into the floor above: “Just because you ruined your own relationships doesn’t mean you should have ruined mine.” And Neji wished wholeheartedly that he had never said anything. It was obvious that Lee was cracking under pressures that Neji realized he had no clue what they were. He had been a ticking time bomb and Neji had detonated him. He probably wouldn’t be invited for poker that week, and it was likely that there wouldn’t be another poker group where he was allowed to join in. Neji couldn’t help but see the rationale in that. It only disappointed him because that was where he always felt freest from the haunting image of TenTen and his failed marriage. He’d have to find some other hobby to distract himself from his misery.

Somewhere upstairs a door slammed shut, waking Taiki who started to cry. Himawari excused herself from the conversation she was having with Metal and Suigetsu and headed upstairs to check on her son. Neji noticed how Metal’s eyes followed her until she was no longer visible, his hand still outstretched from where it had moved to as Himawari had removed herself from his grasp. Suigetsu probably hadn’t noticed that Metal was paying more attention to his girlfriend than to him, but Suigetsu had had his own problems with love and parenthood in his thirties and Neji could remember a very proud man being reduced to nothing.

Neji smirked into his wine, finally content to watch the other partygoers communicate amongst themselves. Yes, love was an enigma alright. Even the most hardened of men couldn't escape its clutches. And even the most successful of men couldn't get away from the attempting to find the secret. Like everyone else, Gaara had just learned what it was the hard way.

Somewhere in the back of Neji's mind, a light turned on. Perhaps he, too, had discovered the secret to a healthy relationship after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	8. Start of a Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years in the past, Naruto is off to college and forced to take a class in something called "Sociology". He'll never succeed without Gaara by his side! Itachi, on the other hand, is worried about his little brother. Something just isn't right and Itachi knows he has to find out what!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobia, Abuse, Suicide, Parental Death

Summer was drawing to a close and it was becoming clear that no matter how much Naruto wished to postpone the start of a new school year it wasn't possible to prevent the inevitable. He thought that it was strange that everyone expected him to do so much, like finish high school and get into college, but no one told him how much it was going to suck to know that he had a limited number of days to spend with his best friend before they would be separated by several thousand miles. His mother had told him he would get used to the idea, but it had been three months of some of the best weather the area had ever seen, and he was still not used to the idea that Gaara would be gone by the time he got up in the morning.

Gaara and he had tried to have the best summer possible, spending nearly every waking minute with each other in the hopes that the end would feel less painful since they had so much time together. Now, however, Naruto was regretting that decision as it was too painful to bear that these were the last hours with Gaara and they had had such an amazing summer. Naruto was afraid that he would wake up the next day and find that his entire world had been flipped upside down. He was positive he would be so lonely without his best friend that his own college experience would be marred with so little social interaction that he would shrivel into nothing.

Naruto clacked away at his computer, trying to find something even remotely interesting to look at.

The silence between him and Gaara had been deafening, and Naruto was sure that it was because neither of them knew what to say. Gaara and he had spent their entire lives together. They lived catty–corner to each other, went to all of the same schools, knew all of the same people and even had dated for a few years. They had shared everything together, only spending a few weeks apart in the entirety of their friendship. And now, they were going to be so far away from each other they wouldn't even share a time–zone.

“This is so unfair,” Naruto whined, spinning in his chair to face Gaara who was reading a comic on the bed.

This was not the first time Naruto had voiced this opinion, so Gaara merely glance over the top of his comic before settling back against the pillows. Unperturbed, Naruto continued, “Nothing good is going to happen with us so far apart.”

It was a valid complaint. In the three weeks Naruto and Gaara hadn't been speaking to each other due to their emotional break–up, Naruto's dad had committed suicide. Naruto knew it was silly to believe in luck, but he was positive that Gaara was his good–luck charm. Everything that had ever been good in his life had happened with Gaara right there by his side. He was sure that since Gaara was going to be so far away that nothing good would ever happen to him at Konoha Leaf Village University. Heck, he wasn't even sure what he was going to study!

Gaara turned a page in his thick volume. “You should have thought of that before refusing to retake the A–C–T.”

Naruto stuck out his tongue. “The test was rigged!”

Rolling his eyes, Gaara said: “You answered 'D' to every question.”

This was true. If he were honest with himself it had not been his wisest move, but the thought of taking the entire test again hadn't sounded too exciting, either. Especially when they told him he would have to retake it during finals week. The ACT and finals sounded like a lot of work and he had had a bad case of senioritis (even though technically he hadn't been a senior yet). The sunshine had called his name more than some stupid test had. By the time senior year had come around, Naruto was too busy planning his future than to sit and take a test. And by planning his future, Naruto had meant playing pranks on the neighborhood.

Sighing, Naruto spun around in his chair a couple of times. “It's just, you already know everything that you're going to do with your life. You'll become a massively famous potter, meet someone super awesome because of it and forget all about this stupid town. What am I going to do without you?”

Gaara dropped his comic to the bed. “We've been over this before: I'll drag you to all my galas with me. You'll be my personal assistant.” Satisfied that he had said all that needed to be said, Gaara picked up his book again and continued reading.

Naruto huffed. This had been their plan for a year now, but there was a part of himself that didn't like the idea. There was nothing glamorous about being a personal assistant. He hated organizing people's lives, that is why he hadn't taken his godfather Jiraiya up on his offer for that receptionist position. Who wanted to manage people several hours a week? At least Gaara was going to do something cool and work with clay for the rest of his life.

“Maybe you'll be my personal assistant,” Naruto said in a sarcastic tone, but on some level he meant it.

Gaara shook his head. “You're better with people than I am. Besides, you keep better track of little details.”

Naruto groaned. Everybody said he was good with people, and everybody said he was good at keeping track of what was bothering someone. But there were no good careers out there that involved talking to people and cheering them up. He didn't want to be a psychologist (being confined in a small office and listening to someone cry was not appealing) and he definitely didn't want to be a life coach like his mom (the work she had to do in order to get a client was too much effort). He knew he didn't have the brains for medicine so that had never been an option. When he voiced this opinion, Gaara gave him an irritated look.

“What about a teacher?” Gaara asked, flipping his comic upside down and staring intently at one of the pages.

“Can you imagine me as a teacher? My class would never learn anything. I'd just stand up there and wave my arms the entire time.”

This, or some variant of it, was what Naruto said when people asked him if he wanted to be a teacher. It wasn't that he hadn't considered it, but after having Mr. Hatake in at least one course every semester in high school he was turned off from being a teacher. There were only so many ways he could imagine himself teaching, and they almost always resulted in him acting just like Mr. Hatake. While Mr. Hatake was a decent teacher on some levels, almost all of his lessons involved a lost binder of essays or a coffee spill over handwritten notes.

Everybody passed Mr. Hatake's courses because he couldn't be bothered half the time to write down who turned in what homework before it mysteriously got destroyed. It became problematic when the teacher was the one using the excuse 'my dog ate your homework'. His lectures were at least practical, but it was a bit unfair that those who did so much work got the same grade as those who did none.

“Then I can't help you,” Gaara said, turning his comic right–side up and flipping the page.

Naruto was beginning to think that maybe he wasn't cut out for college after all. Gaara had decided sometime in sophomore year that he wanted to work with clay and had taken all the steps needed to reach that goal. Naruto, on the other hand, had decided that he would wait until later to decide anything. It was now 'later' and he had no idea on what he was going to do with his life. Even signing up for courses at his orientation session had been a disaster. The proctor had spent a long time with him trying to decide on what classes he wanted to take before telling him that almost all the lower–division gen–ed elective courses were filled except for Introduction to Sociology.

Naruto had read the description after he had signed up for it. It sounded boring. Studying why society functions was by far the stupidest thing he had ever heard. He already knew why society was so messed up—the people in it were idiots. His mom, on the other hand, had told him that she thought he would enjoy it and then promptly told him to stop whining and clean his room. If Naruto ever became a parent he would never expect the house to be so clean.

“What if I can't meet anyone?” Naruto asked randomly. It had been a pressing issue for him since finding out that Gaara was going to Suna Tech.

The look Gaara gave him was so cold it sent chills down Naruto's spine. “This, coming from you?”

Naruto knew he was friendly and bubbly and charismatic, but that wasn't the type of 'meet' he was looking for. There was something off–putting about peaking romantically at fifteen and Naruto didn't want Gaara to be it for him in terms of dating. “No, like a boyfriend.”

Gaara stayed silent, turning another page in his comic. Naruto waited impatiently before realizing that Gaara wasn't going to answer. Naruto had started to notice that Gaara always clammed up when he topic of dating other people had come up. He also was the one to shut down any conversation about them dating again, too. Finally, Gaara shut his book with a thud and started packing it away in his bag. “I have to get home,” Gaara said, shouldering his pack.

Checking the clock, Naruto stood up, too. He knew Gaara wasn't mad. They had decided that four o'clock would be their cut–off time at the beginning of the summer. That had felt so long ago now that Naruto was cursing his more rational self for putting a deadline down.

“We'll video chat every day,” Naruto said, walking Gaara down to the ground floor of his house. Gaara nodded numbly.

In the front entry, Gaara paused, staring at Naruto. He was fiddling with the strap of his backpack and his feet shuffled on the tiles. In a swift movement, Gaara wrapped Naruto into an uncharacteristic crushing hug. Naruto hugged Gaara back.

Breathing into Naruto's neck, Gaara said: “I'll miss you, too.”

*******

Itachi was not one to question his little brother's motives. Sasuke, he had learned, was very capable of deciding for himself what the right thing to do was. Ever since he was little, Sasuke had been the 'right police', often asking pointed questions that convinced adults to change their wayward ways. It was, however, concerning that Sasuke, a freshman at Konoha Leaf Village University, was spending so little time in his dorm room and so much time at Itachi's kitchen table.

Sasuke had given excuses as to why he was coming over (“you have tomatoes, Itachi, the cafeteria does not”) and he could always explain why he stayed so late (“you get Sannin TV and the best shows are on at this time of night”), but Itachi was starting to worry about his little brother. True, Itachi always worried about Sasuke, but this was a more pressing fear—one that was convincing him that Sasuke was in need of help.

So, it was when, predictably, Sasuke came over that afternoon just as his Thursday classes finished, Itachi felt his brotherly instincts well up inside of him. Sasuke's right eye had been swollen shut, the bruise a sickly reddish–purple color mixed with the already–healing green tinges on the his cheek bone. Itachi flung himself into older brother action, rummaging around the freezer for a stray bag of peas and forcing Sasuke to cover his eye with the bag of vegetables. A frown marred Itachi's features, his fingers itching to go after whoever did this to his brother, and his heart breaking as Sasuke winced when the bag touched his eye.

“You want to tell me what's going on, Sasuke?” Itachi asked, tapping his foot restlessly on the floor, arms crossed over his chest.

Sasuke shrugged. “It's nothing.”

Itachi flung his hands up in the air. This was impossible. Sasuke was smart man, he had so much potential, and yet he was so stubborn. It was, by far, his worst quality, and Itachi was sure it was going to get him in trouble one day. Well, Itachi was going to make sure that this (whatever it was) would not be that day.

“Your eye is swollen shut. That was not an accident,” Itachi countered, forcing his arms to stay at his hips.

Sasuke was already pulling out his homework, obviously ignoring Itachi. When Sasuke went to move Itachi's needs–to–be–graded stack of papers over to where Itachi was keeping his already–graded papers, Itachi saw fit to intervene, mostly, he told himself, for his brother's own good and not for the work it was going to take to reorganize his student's papers. “I'll call dad.”

Itachi knew it was a low–blow. They were both adults, fully capable of settling an argument between themselves in an adult manner, but he needed answers and Sasuke's only weakness was his perfectionist self. It was, however, telling that Sasuke paused mid–reach at the mention of their father. Fugaku was an easy man to get along with most of the time. He was loving, caring and hardworking. But he also had a temper, one that could flare up quickly and without warning. Itachi had always been better at deflecting the anger than Sasuke was and as such saw less of the temper outbursts. Sasuke had always been one to walk right into them.

“Please don't,” Sasuke said, turning to stare pitifully at Itachi. The morose look in Sasuke's eyes was not what Itachi had expected. Sasuke was not one who openly showed that type of emotion. Usually if he showed any emotion it was anger or hostility, but never sadness. And Sasuke was never one to beg Itachi for anything.

The anger Itachi felt dissipated immediately. If he didn't know that Sasuke wouldn't want to be hugged, he would have squashed him in a massive bear–hug. Instead, Itachi placed a hand on Sasuke's shoulder. “What's going on, Sasuke?” Itachi said, before adding hastily, “I'm here for you no matter what.”

Sasuke chewed his bottom lip and looked everywhere except at Itachi. “Don't tell anyone but....” Itachi waited with bated breath. Sasuke couldn't seem to find the words he wanted to say, his eyes darted from one point in the house to another and he was breathing heavily. “....But I think I might be—” Sasuke shook his head. “I'm gay,” he said finally, staring directly into Itachi's eyes with such a fierceness and determination that Itachi almost stepped backward, but caught himself just in time.

“Oh,” Itachi said, patting Sasuke on the shoulder awkwardly. He realized now that putting his hand there in the first place might have been the wrong move. “That's all?” he finally said because now that he really thought about it, it was obvious.

Behaviors that Itachi had chalked–up to Sasuke being younger danced in his mind. Like the time he had asked why the two male characters on television weren't kissing. Or when he had started taking six showers everyday just to spend time with guy–friends from school. Or how he had always excused not dating with explaining that he had homework to do, and then spending nearly all his time watching television. Or even his obsession with wrestling with his male–friends. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place with Sasuke's admission, and Itachi couldn't believe that he hadn't seen it sooner.

Itachi had gone to school for years studying minority groups like the LGBT community. He had read countless textbooks, monographs and journal articles on the subject. He had even written his graduate thesis on the intersectionality between race and homosexuality. And yet, Itachi hadn't seen the signs that his little brother was gay.

“You're okay with it?” Sasuke asked, obviously expecting more of a fight than he was getting.

Itachi shrugged. “Yes. I'll be more okay with it if you tell me how you got that black eye, though.”

Sasuke sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Itachi knew that Sasuke did that when he was nervous and trying to calm himself down. “My roommate's a jackass.”

Anger welled–up in Itachi's chest. “And he's hitting you because you're—” Itachi couldn't even force himself to finish that sentence. He had known that dorms could be difficult places for LGBT students to navigate but he had never wanted to entertain what that meant in terms of interactions. Now, though, Itachi was already writing a heated letter to the Dean, already threatening a massive lawsuit if things didn't change, and organizing an ally–protest in order to secure safe housing for all students.

Sasuke nodded, a look of panic drifting over his face. Itachi paused in his social justice campaign planning, already aware that maybe this was a step too far for Sasuke. He slowed his thoughts back down to a reasonable pace and thought long and hard as to what the correct form of action was.

Sasuke was eighteen years old, still very young and definitely not ready to come out to the world. The fact that he couldn't see that Itachi—his own brother who had saved him from their parent's wrath countless times—was not a going to judge him based on his sexual orientation spoke for how terrified he was. Itachi knew Sasuke understood what sociology was, and how devoted Itachi was to the study, but Sasuke had still been petrified that Itachi was going to disown him and had prepared to fight for recognition. He was not ready to take a stand against homophobia, and Itachi couldn't expect him to regardless.

“You're moving in with me, then,” Itachi announced, sure that this was the only correct solution.

“But I already paid for my dorm room!” Sasuke countered. Itachi knew Sasuke had scrimped and saved his senior year for the money to pay for his dorm room. He knew just how much it had meant to Sasuke to pay his own way through school with as little help from family as possible.

“I'll match it,” Itachi said, recognizing that his teaching salary was not going to be able to cover it, but knowing that Sasuke needed the help more. This was what brotherhood was about—taking care of your little brother when he needed a support system.

“You mean it?” Sasuke asked, staring defensively at Itachi.

Itachi nodded, forcing himself not to think about how difficult the next six months were going to be for him. It was better than the alternative, Itachi thought. A little bit of money was worth his little brother's happiness. And a little bit of penny–pinching was worth his brother's life.

It was only later, when Itachi loaded up the last box of Sasuke's things into the trunk of his car, that he began to wonder what type of person Sasuke was going to become. Itachi knew that, had he been in the same situation as Sasuke, he would not have withstood such torment. Itachi knew that he would have broken long before he had forced Sasuke to. Sasuke was destined for something greater, and Itachi couldn't help but think about what happiness lay in store for Sasuke. He hoped it would all be worth it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


	9. To Start Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Gaara admits his feelings for Naruto over Rock Lee, it's been a year since Gaara and Naruto have spoken. Gaara asks Naruto for a meeting by a wintry lake and Naruto fears the worst. When Gaara says all he needs to, Naruto can't believe what he's hearing.

Naruto checked his phone once more to make sure that he had the right place. Sure enough the park bench he was staring at was the exact one that Gaara had told him to meet at. Naruto sighed. He was getting too old for cryptic text messages from Gaara. He was getting too old to be meeting in secret in a park. Still, he sat down on the slatted bench, more of a defeated move than one of pure resignation. He had to admit, the lake was peaceful. The swans that swam across it were a picture of dignified grace. They almost made up for the chill in the air, the frost settling in on the metal parts of the bench or how Naruto had to snuggle into his vest to keep his extremities warm.

He had forgotten his mittens and scarf in his hurry to not be late. Now, though, Gaara hadn’t shown up and Naruto was starting to wonder if he had been set up. Gaara and Rock Lee’s place wasn’t too far from there, it was possible that they had wanted to rile him up. He hadn’t spoken to Rock Lee in nearly two years and with the nearly-due second grandchild that Himawari and Metal were expecting he didn’t think that he would ever make amends with the man who blamed Naruto and Sasuke for all his son’s misfortunes. Gaara had tried his best, but it became clear where his loyalties lie shortly after Metal and Himawari had moved into their own apartment. Gaara had muttered something about having to choose the right side for once, but Naruto still had no idea what that meant.

In fact, this meeting that Gaara had texted him about was the first Naruto had seen him in over a year. Naruto mused how two friends who were so close that even four years of great distance hadn’t driven them apart were finally thrown against each other with the unexpected arrival of a grandson. It felt more than ironic, but Naruto wasn’t sure what word best fit it all. He was a social scientist, not wordsmith. Naruto checked his phone again, promising himself that he would leave in ten minutes if Gaara didn’t show up.

The lake hadn’t yet frozen over, the trees still held some of their golden leaves and the grass was still growing underneath the bench. The distant mountains were now shaded from view by a flurry of snow that Naruto had no doubt would make its way down into the valley soon enough. He had been surprised by how late the winter had come, what with the summer being so wet and the fall so cold. But, it did Himawari good not to have to bundle into so many layers so late into her pregnancy. The less she had to do, the better off she was, at least, that was how the first pregnancy had been, throwing her into a deep post-partum depression that easily rivaled that of Metal who had sunk so low that Naruto had had to drag him out of bed every morning and throw him in the shower to get him to work on time. It had been a serious case of whooping cough that had dragged them both into their parental roles, forcing Himawari to come to terms with her motherhood and then convincing Metal that their son was more important than anything else at that moment, forcing him to grow up so suddenly that Naruto wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t known the man beforehand.

Somehow, the second unplanned pregnancy between the two of them didn’t seem so panic-driven. They were financially able to care for a second baby, though it would be tight. Naruto had actually found himself excited for a second grandchild, something that he had at one point wished one of his older children would hurry up and do just to take the awkwardness away from Himawari and Metal’s situation. Whereas with Taiki he had actively encouraged Himawari to find out the gender of her first child, now, he was prepping to buy something yellow for this child as it didn’t seem so very important to know every detail before meeting them. He would still spoil Taiki terribly, but Taiki would have to learn at five how to share his toys and, having so many children so close together, Naruto knew he and Sasuke were perfect for teaching those lessons.

Naruto heard the slow crunching of someone deviating from the concrete path before he saw Gaara. Gaara’s hair had finally turned white all the way through, his tattoos had been recently touched up, a new addition covered the bottom half of his love tattoo so that it read ‘love eternal’. He was smiling awkwardly, like he was apologetic about arriving so late but would never say so.

“Hey.”

It was so simple. Like they hadn’t been apart for far too long. Like they hadn’t fought about attraction, about lost love, about what could have been. About what Naruto had no intention of ever doing. Of what Gaara had always wished for. Of what Rock Lee had always feared. Somehow it was too little and just enough.

“Hey.”

Naruto’s response was what felt right. What said all that needed to be said. They had fought. They had said horrible things. They had cooled off. They were okay again. Naruto had no hard feelings and neither did Gaara. 

Gaara slid down onto the bench, shivering when his butt touched the seat. He stared out at the lake as Naruto settled into doing the same. The swans swam towards the other end of the lake in a large group of maybe twenty. Naruto was too content to want to count them to know he number for sure. Gaara settled into his seat, crossing one leg over the other. Naruto saw that he still wore the same pants that he had when they last spoke, still wore plain crew socks and still wore his coming-apart black leather boots.

“It’s been a while,” Gaara drawled, staring contentedly out at the steaming lake. Naruto noticed that Gaara’s eyes glanced cautiously at him as if assessing something. Perhaps Gaara still felt awkward about their last fight, the one that had upturned everything they both knew, had spurned them into not talking for a year, had enraged Rock Lee so effortlessly. Naruto could still remember the screaming phone calls that Rock Lee had left on his voicemail. And he couldn’t say he blamed the man. If Sasuke had admitted to being in love with Suigetsu for all of their relationship, had said he was only dating Naruto to get over his love for the other man, Naruto wasn’t sure he would handle the situation with any decorum, either.

But Naruto had never been one for grudges. They took too much effort, trying to remember who was okay to talk to, who was a friend, who was on his side. No, Naruto preferred the spew and sit method where he would say everything he needed to say in one sitting and then go and cool off. Gaara had always understood that part of him, had always been one to let Naruto vent and run. And they had always come back in the end, a new understanding between the two of them that had only strengthened their relationship.

But, Gaara was also the one who was cautious about starting again, wanting to be sure the nasty words were behind them, waiting out the emotions until there was nothing left. He always felt the most guilty, the one who the problems weren’t officially over until it was more than obvious that everything was going to be okay. This situation was no different. Their fight could have ended another friendship, in fact Naruto had thought that perhaps it was too late to salvage anything that they had. Sitting there with Gaara made him realize that he didn’t care that Gaara had had feelings for him. He didn’t care that Rock Lee probably hated him. He didn’t care all the nastiness that had transpired. He just wanted his best friend back.

So, he settled into his seat, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, watched as his breath puffed out his mouth in white bursts. “I missed you,” he said, because he really had. He hadn’t noticed it before then but he had really needed someone to vent to about problems in his life and that man had always been Gaara. As far back as he could remember he had let Gaara be his true confidant. He had shared everything with the man, and his absence had been felt in every aspect of Naruto’s life. He only hoped that Gaara had felt the same.

“Yeah.”

Naruto tried to keep the smile off his face. Gaara had always been so simple with words whereas Naruto had always needed more of them to make a point. Yet, with the simple utterance of one a single word Naruto knew that Gaara had missed him terribly and that he was sorry for everything that had transpired. Somehow the fact that nothing really had changed between them made Naruto feel better and he began to open up more, felt less on edge waiting for something bigger to happen.

“I’m getting married,” Gaara said after five minutes of neither of them saying anything and just staring blankly out at the water.

Naruto couldn’t help but feel surprised. A year ago Rock Lee would never have agreed to that. He had been so bitter about the fact that Gaara had dated him for all the wrong reasons. He had been scared, upset, scarred. A year to themselves must have done something good for their relationship. In fact, as Naruto stared at Gaara with wide eyes he noticed that Gaara looked more relaxed than he had in years. His hair was tamer, his eyes softer, his clothes cleaner. He had ditched his heavy eyeliner in favor of showing off the color of his eyes with a complimentary blue sweater. Love, true, unadultured love, suited Gaara more than bitterness ever did. Rock Lee had found a way to soften the rough exterior that Gaara had displayed and had mellowed him into someone who wanted domesticity. The man who had travelled the world by himself, dreading to ask for help from anybody had been replaced by a man who was content to be himself with those few closest to him.

“Congrats, man!” Naruto found himself saying and meaning. It didn’t matter the he and Rock Lee didn’t (and probably never would) get along. Gaara was happier than Naruto had ever seen him and if Rock Lee could accomplish what Naruto never could then he had to respect that. “I wish you both the best!” It didn’t matter, Naruto reassured himself, that this was probably the last time he would get to see Gaara. Rock Lee had made it very clear that Naruto wasn’t welcome in their household anymore and Gaara must have realized that Rock Lee would never allow them to spend time together after getting married.

Gaara licked his lips. “Rock Lee wanted me to ask you something.”

Naruto nodded, tried to keep a neutral expression on his face. He knew what was coming. He knew that this was where Gaara would tell him that they would never be friends again. That a lifetime of togetherness was gone simply because Gaara had ben stupidly obsessed with a love that could never be and never was. Naruto felt himself mourning the loss of the lifetime they had spent together. He felt a hollow feeling spread throughout his chest, felt his body going numb in a way that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. “Okay,” he added in a breathy tone, trying not to suffocate as his chest squeezed into itself.

Gaara shifted in his seat. He glanced around the park, staring extra hard at the swans before glancing back at Naruto. Finally, it was as if Gaara had worked up the courage, had realized he couldn’t put it off anymore. He turned his body to face Naruto and started speaking in a low, quick tone: “Will you be my best man?”

Naruto let out the breath he was holding in a short laugh. He blinked while he tried to stifle the giggles escaping his throat. That was definitely not what he had been expecting. “Rock Lee asked you to ask me that?” Because it seemed so unreal. There was no way Gaara was telling the truth. Rock Lee would not want Naruto as part of the wedding party.

Gaara blinked slowly, shuffling again in his seat, clasping and unclasping his hands. “He wants to make amends. He feels upset at how things turned out. With a second grandchild on the way he wants to start fresh. He—we both want a new chance at life. We want to start again. A marriage and a baby sound like a perfect opportunity to do that.”

There was such a sincerity on Gaara’s face that Naruto realized that what he as saying was the truth. Gaara and Rock Lee may not be the perfect couple, but they were good for each other. Naruto may not know exactly what Rock Lee was getting out of the relationship, but Gaara had gained a perspective that had taken him out of his comfort zone and into inner peace. To have a fresh start at their age was something that most never got. The fact that Gaara and Rock Lee had the chance to try was something to cherish. And, to do it together was something even more sweet.

Naruto felt a giddiness rise up in him that hadn’t been there before. He wanted to be sarcastic, he wanted to make a quip about knocking Rock Lee up, wanted to joke that usually it was the parents-to-be who got married and Metal and Hillary were certainly not desiring to walk down the aisle anytime soon. But the only thing that he felt capable of letting out his mouth was a high-pitched, girlish squeal and he was much too old for such antics.

“If that’s what Rock Lee wants on his special day, then that’s what he’ll get,” Naruto finally was able to squeeze past the scream in his throat. The corners of Gaara’s mouth quirked up, because they both knew that that had promised each other to be best men at their respective weddings after reuniting shortly after Naruto’s dad killed himself. Gaara had been there for Naruto’s wedding, had somehow left the rings back at his apartment before the wedding and had begged Sasuke’s dad to drive back and get them to cover for his mistake. Gaara had convinced Naruto that neon orange was not a wedding color, had forced Naruto to be reasonable at his bachelor’s party and had practically pushed him down the aisle. 

Now, it was Naruto’s turn to repay the favor and he was going to be an even better best man to Gaara than Gaara was to him. Rock Lee wanting Naruto to be there just made it all the sweeter, like somehow they had gone around the bend and had come back again. Like they had come full circle and were now where they were supposed to be all along.

“He was dead-set on you being there,” Gaara added as a conclusion to that train of thought, like it was preposterous that Naruto wouldn’t be there for such a momentous occasion in Gaara’s life.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, Grandpa,” Naruto nudged Gaara with his shoulder, smiling with his teeth. Out of the corner of Naruto’s eye he noticed that Gaara was smirking as he righted himself.

“You know, I prefer ‘Grandpa’ to ‘Geezer’ any day.”

Sitting there, Gaara’s arm now securely around Naruto’s shoulders, Naruto grinning stupidly, the pair watched as the flock of swans took flight, rising from the steaming lake in a honking white cloud of feathers. 

The geese flew into the grey sky, following the winds, where they were headed neither Naruto or Gaara knew, but they both agreed that it must be somewhere where they were supposed to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this work please consider leaving a review/bookmarking for later/clicking that kudos button. Thank you!


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